#so it's not exactly easy for me to explain emotional absence to someone struggling from general absence
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alwaysmychoices · 4 years ago
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Retirement Talks
Synopsis: Charlie decides to return to Edenbrook to meet Kyra for lunch, but little did she know that a scandal has rocked the hospital. During lunch, secrets on all sides are revealed - some of which make Charlie question if she should leave medicine altogether. 
Chapter 25 of the “with and without” series
Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)
Words: 5.8k
Rating: Teen 
Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)
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Charlie was back in Edenbrook.
Not by her own desire, of course.
It was her therapist’s idea. She thought visiting Edenbrook would help Charlie so she could see it without the looming threat of a bioterrorist attack or meeting Ethan’s estranged mother. Her therapist hoped that it would ease Charlie’s anxiety and show her that Edenbrook really was just a building at the end of the day.
Not some evil place full of death and destruction. Even if it housed her most painful memories, those were just memories. She couldn’t fault the building itself.
She needed to stop fearing Edenbrook. If she didn’t, she could never return to Edenbrook.
Those were easy things to say – very appealing in its rationality.
But if it was just a building, it was a building haunted. The halls were lined with ghosts of memories long gone, seemingly forgotten by all but Charlie. All the hope and innocence she saw on her first day was replaced with stinging bitterness. She was afraid of what Edenbrook would take from her next.
She didn’t want to be here.
She probably would have left if she hadn’t made lunch plans with Kyra – who, of course, was late.
It had already been fifteen minutes since they’d initially planned to meet, and Charlie saw no sign of Kyra showing up any time soon. Charlie initially waited in the lobby, but after a text from Kyra that said she was stuck in an emergency staff meeting, Charlie moved to Kyra’s office to wait in privacy.
It was easier to wait there. Charlie had very few memories in the administrative wing of the hospital – even fewer negative ones. There were also fewer onlookers in Kyra’s office, and Charlie didn’t want to be stared at. Besides, Kyra kept snacks in her desk, and Charlie was starving.
This wasn’t the first time Charlie had stolen from Kyra’s snack drawer, so when she walked in, she knew exactly where it was.  A few months ago, lunches like these were regular occurrences. Then secrets – primarily Charlie’s relationship with Ethan – started to separate her from her friends, little by little. Most of her spare time was taken from her friends and immediately dedicated to the intoxicating and less than honorable pursuit of falling in love with Ethan Ramsey.
Charlie had been lying for a very long time.
Two months of her relationship – almost three. Even longer if she counted the build-up.
Her friends allowed it. She wasn’t sure why, but as she stole a Twizzler from Kyra’s desk, she had the distinct feeling that she didn’t deserve it.
Just before Charlie could lose herself in the depths of guilt and a dizzying inner monologue, her companion finally appeared.
20 minutes late, not that Charlie or her grumbling stomach were counting.
“Twizzlers, thank God,” Kyra skipped the pleasantries, instead making a beeline for her friend and the snacks in her hands. Kyra took a handful from the snack drawer and waited until she’d chewed through at least one before turning to Charlie.
Kyra looked amazing.
Particularly for being on death’s door only a month earlier.
Charlie wished she had been there for more of the recovery. After finding out Kyra survived the surgery, they had an emotional moment, and they frequented each other’s room in the hospital. But after the memorial service, Charlie and Ethan left town, and Charlie struggled once she returned to Boston.
During that time, Charlie visited Raf and Kyra. Sometimes, seeing them was the only time she left her apartment. But Kyra was the strongest of all of them – to no one’s particular surprise. Kyra returned to work within only a few weeks, and with Raf and Kyra still on leave, they primarily heard from her via text or rambling phone calls where Kyra shared hospital gossip they didn’t understand.
Looking at Kyra and Charlie, you could tell that one of them almost died, but you’d think it was Charlie, not Kyra. Kyra was stylish and trendy with high heels, a freshly shaved head, and a new series of gold ear piercings to celebrate her successful surgery. She oozed effortless coolness and accentuated it with a devilish smile everyone adored.
Charlie, on the other hand, hadn’t bounced back so smoothly. She’d dressed for the snow by picking up a pair of jeans she hadn’t washed in over a week, and coupled with her anxious expression, her style that usually read as classic and laidback seemed boring and stiff.
Or at least that was what Charlie felt like in comparison.
“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, claiming another Twizzler for herself as she settled comfortably on the edge of Kyra’s desk.
“Just the hospital freaking out,” Kyra grumbled, digging through her snack drawer for something else. She didn’t seem satisfied with any of her options, so she settled on a pack of fruit gummies from the bottom of the drawer.
“About what?” Charlie’s interest was piqued, though she tried to keep her tone casual. After staying home for so long, she couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“Another crisis,” Kyra evaded her, “Which isn’t helping the dire financial straits the hospital was already in.”
“Oh… Are you sure you can still get lunch today?”
“Are you kidding!” Kyra’s eyes widened as if horrified by the idea of a cancellation, “After all that, I need lunch. Let’s get out of the hospital and actually go somewhere good.”
Kyra wanted to get Charlie out of the hospital. Something about her eagerness to do made Charlie suspicious but not enough so that she would push it further. She was so eager to leave – despite her therapist’s suggestions – that she quickly accepted the proposal.
“Sounds perfect,” Charlie agreed.
After only a few moments of discussion, they decided to go to a restaurant within walking distance. Despite its close proximity, it was unpopular with Edenbrook workers because it was notorious for slow service, a recipe for disaster for short lunch breaks. Charlie, who had nowhere else to be for the rest of the day, didn’t mind. Kyra, who regularly extended her break beyond its limit, suggested it on purpose so she could avoid their coworkers.
As they walked to the restaurant, Kyra silently lamented she’d brought Charlie to Edenbrook on the worst day possible.
But she smiled and kept it to herself.
When they took their seats, Kyra started her usual game of looking for the craziest thing on the menu and deciding she should get it just so she could live a little. She inspired Charlie to order something a little more adventurous than the basic chicken sandwich she’d been eyeing when they first walked in.
After they ordered, Kyra was smiling.
“What?” Charlie asked, “The chicken won’t be that spicy,” she felt the need to defend her order, assuming her friend was judging her hot chicken and waffles – an impulsive choice on Charlie’s part but familiar enough that she was comfortable with it.
“Not that,” Kyra rolled her eyes dramatically, still grinning though, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Charlie smiled back – genuinely.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Kyra shook her head as if shocked by their recent time apart.
“I know… I haven’t been around much,” Charlie admitted sheepishly, reaching for her water as if she could hide behind the glass.
She didn’t need to feel embarrassed about needing time after the attack to heal. But that wasn’t really what she was embarrassed about. It was the weeks of lying and hiding that preceded it.
“I’ve heard,” Kyra smirked softly into her drink.
“You’ve heard?” Charlie repeated, her heart rate spiking just a bit.
“I mean, even before everything happened, you were getting hard to find. And then, after the attack, you’re entitled to space, but…” Kyra smirked like she knew some grand secret, and Charlie’s stomach flipped. “Honestly, all of your roommates wonder where you are but are too polite to ask because of all you’ve been through.”
Charlie’s face fell.
Shit.
She should’ve known. Of course, they’d eventually put it together that she was often gone and frequently spent nights away, but she didn’t realize they were talking about it.
Charlie swallowed hard, and Kyra took that as her sign to continue.
“At first, they thought you were seeing someone casually and didn’t want to tell anyone after what happened with Raf, but then they thought they would have come around after the attack. For a little while, they thought you were with Raf and had secretly united after he broke up with his girlfriend because you guys were suddenly getting along again,” Kyra explained, watching as Charlie’s blanched with shock, “And he explained your absences a lot of the time, but he denied being your boyfriend, by the way. So, if you are having a secret love affair, you should know that your boyfriend denies it.”
“And do you guys still think I’m with Raf?” Charlie couldn’t believe there had been this much discourse about her absence. How many theories had they gone through?
“No,” Kyra shook her head, “You guys don’t act like a couple when you’re together. Plus, there’s no real reason to keep it a secret.”
Right…
Charlie was amazed Rafael hadn’t told her about all the gossip, but he was probably just trying to protect her from it.
“You guys aren’t, are you?” Kyra asked, just to be sure.
“No, definitely not,” Charlie insisted forcefully enough that Kyra was satisfied she was telling the truth.
“Good,” Kyra grinned in relief, “I already made a bet with Elijah that you two weren’t together, so he owes he me $20 now.”
Charlie couldn’t help but laugh.
Still, her curiosity burned.
“So, what are the other theories?”
Kyra raised an eyebrow, surprised Charlie was digging into it more. Clearly, something was there if she was this curious.
“Some are better than others. Aurora thought you might have a secret apartment to be by yourself. Sienna thinks you’re just going around to different supporters like Dr. Banerji when you need them. She usually thinks you’re at his cabin when you’re away. Bryce likes to joke that you’re out at bars on the prowl for a new boy toy,” Kyra winked with a laugh, “And then there’s this really funny one we came up with at Donahue’s, but it’s probably not true.”
“What is it?” Charlie pushed.
Kyra blushed. She was embarrassed to tell her how crazy their conspiracies had become.
“Well… it’s just that Dr. Ramsey’s been really supportive and protective since the attack. And we all saw how devastated he was right after. Plus, he’s the one who took you to Dr. Banerji’s cabin,” Kyra began, but the way she spoke made it clear she thought it was unlikely.
But she was right.
“After everything that happened with you last year, I know that you probably wouldn’t even give him the time of day, especially since you’d started dating other people right before you got sick. But… we thought you and Dr. Ramsey were, you know, together.”
Kyra expected an emphatic rebuttal or an amused laugh. Instead, Charlie stared.
“You weren’t, right?” Kyra laughed, waiting for her expected response.
“Um…” Charlie hesitated.
She wondered if she should keep lying.
But she couldn’t fathom it, not anymore.
“I was, actually,” Charlie said it casually, like it wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation that she had reunited with the man who broke her heart last spring.
Kyra was stunned to silence.
So stunned that she hardly noticed the waitress deliver their meals. Charlie thanked her on behalf of both of them.
Charlie waited for Kyra to do something.
Literally anything.
But she was just staring.
“We were actually together before the attack, though,” Charlie spoke up, trying to fill the silence. She kept her tone nonchalant in hopes it would keep the conversation that way, reducing the impact of her truth, “About a month. Not including the back and forth preceding it, where we slept together a few times.”
Kyra’s eyes widened more and more until they couldn’t possibly get wider.
“I thought you liked David! Didn’t you go out with him to get over Ethan?” Kyra asked, having set up them up just so Charlie could stop crushing on her boss.
“I did like him! But… I only saw him once. And I actually cut that date short because Ethan called me drunk, and I wanted to check on him,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.
“And that’s when you decided to be with Ethan?”
“No,” Charlie averted her eyes, “It was about a week later, I think. We, um… we had sex in Ethan’s office. We didn’t mean to do that, but as you already know, it wasn’t the first time. So, Ethan suggested that we start an actual relationship. I said no initially, but the next day, I said yes.”
“You’re in a relationship?”
“Oh… yeah,” Charlie winced, realizing her friend thought they were just sleeping together.
“How serious?”
“Like we’ve met each other’s parents, and we regularly say, ‘I love you’ serious,” Charlie’s voice got higher as she spoke until she was almost squeaking.
This was crazy. She’d been having a secret relationship – and not the kind where you text someone and show up at their door. She’d been building something meaningful with Ethan. She loved Ethan. She truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with Ethan, and along the way, she’d forgotten that her friends had no idea.
“Holy. Shit,” Kyra’s jaw dropped, and she leaned in close, “Tell me everything.”
She was smiling, and Charlie let out a deep sigh of relief.
So, Charlie told her.
Their promise to have a one-night stand. The way they pulled away and always came back. Her first date with David and the night she spent with Ethan. The morning where they shared breakfast and became friends again. The night in Ethan’s office where he offered a relationship and her teary acceptance the next night. The first time they said I love you. The way he helped put her back together after the attack. Their fight about her returning to Edenbrook. Everything.
Kyra was enthralled.
She asked more questions.
Most of which involved how Ethan was in bed. The others questioned how such an asshole could be a good boyfriend. And most importantly, why they’d kept it a secret.
On that front, Charlie didn’t have a great answer.
It was obvious why they kept it a secret from most of the hospital. The hospital didn’t approve of interdepartmental relationships, particularly if one party was a superior. It could jeopardize her place on the Diagnostics Unit, and rumors of sleeping to the top could damage her career permanently.
But why she didn’t tell her friends?
At first, just to keep the secret from spreading and maybe because she thought they’d think it was a terrible decision. Then… as time went on, it was just harder to share.
Though disappointed with Charlie’s lack of an answer, Kyra loved the conversation.
A few months ago, she’d strongly urged Charlie to stay away from Ethan, convinced he could only hurt her if they got any closer. But now that Ethan had seemingly proved himself, Kyra was eager to hear everything.
The rest of lunch was spent dishing on Charlie’s secret relationship and gossiping about the fabulous men – and the gorgeous woman – Kyra had been casually seeing in the last few weeks. Out of all of them, the only one who came close to acting like a partner was ironically Bryce – the only one she wasn’t sleeping with. Charlie, as always, encouraged Kyra to ask Bryce out and act on their perpetual flirting. Kyra just waved off the suggestion.
It wasn’t until the end of the meal that the conversation naturally drifted back to the financial state of Edenbrook and the resulting long hours Kyra had been working.
Kyra forgot why she didn’t bring it up earlier. She forgot that, as much as she loved Charlie, certain topics were still of limits. Something about the conversation made Kyra feel safe and comfortable – like she was catching up with an old friend, not protecting her from a hospital tragedy.
“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Charlie confessed, signing her name on the check as they collected their things to leave.
“The whole thing’s on the verge of collapse,” Kyra sighed, “We’re trying everything –even begging our donor list to the point where they hate us. And things are going to get so much worse after today…”
“Today? What happened today?” Charlie asked curiously. Kyra, who had just looped her arm through Charlie’s, stilled as she realized her mistake.
“Just a little crisis. Nothing we can’t handle,” Kyra murmured casually.
“Is that why you had the emergency meeting?” Charlie prodded innocently, unaware of the change in her friend.
“Mmmhmm,” Kyra hummed avoidantly.
“Well… What was it?” Charlie asked again, growing more intrigued by the minute, “There hasn’t been an emergency admin meeting since someone tried to kill me. And before that, the last one was when Mrs. Martinez’s family threatened to sue. It’s got to be something big.”
And it was.
Something monumental and horrible.
“It’s not great,” Kyra warned, “You probably don’t want to hear about it…”
Well, now Charlie had to know.
“Kyra,” she said softly, pausing on the sidewalk once they exited the restaurant, “what is it?”
Kyra chewed on her lower lip, mulling over the decision on whether or not to tell her.
If Kyra was the one to tell her, at least she could control the way the information was spread. Charlie wouldn’t first be exposed to the news through sensationalized gossip or accusatory questions.
Maybe it was better this way.
“An intern made a mistake, or we think it was a mistake,” Kyra began, her hand resting on Charlie’s arms as they moved through the bitterly cold city. Even with their heavy jackets, they huddled together for warmth, and Kyra was comforted by Charlie’s closeness.
“A mistake,” Charlie repeated, the cogs in her brain already churning.
The last time the administrative wing panicked because of an intern mistake, it had been her own.
“What unit?” Charlie asked, hoping it would be something completely unrelated to her line of work. Maybe surgery made the wrong cut or psych misdiagnosed. Even dermatology was capable of mistakes if they tried hard enough.
“Diagnostics,” Kyra’s soft voice was almost lost to the roar of the Boston streets.
Charlie knew.
Without being told, she knew exactly what happened.
And the fact it came so easily to her meant that she had known the risk before now.
She let it happen.
“Esme,” Charlie blurted out her assumption. She prayed that Kyra would correct her.
“How did you know?” Kyra asked, bewildered.
Charlie winced.
“And the patient was Levi Coates.”
“Did someone already tell you?” Kyra’s eyes were so wide they took up most of her face. She was astonished – maybe even a little relieved she wouldn’t have to share the gory details if Charlie already knew.
Charlie couldn’t speak.
Without either noticing, the crosswalk turned green.
Most of the lunch rush had already left the city streets and returned to their office building, so the sidewalks weren’t crowded. Only a few people stood next to Charlie and Kyra, and once the light changed, they left the pair on the sidewalk by themselves.
“No…” Charlie murmured finally, only becoming aware of the crosswalk once it turned red again and stranded them in their original location.
No one needed to tell Charlie.
It all came back to her in horrific detail.
The day she came back to work – her last day before she abandoned Edenbrook and the care of her intern.
Esme acted strangely. She said things she shouldn’t have said to Charlie. She asked dangerous questions. She was too close to Levi – and too willing to take on the risks involved with helping him. And the party…. The party should have been a sign. No one survived a party at Edenbrook, it seemed.
But back then, Charlie couldn’t take it on. She was too fragile and overwhelmed to assume the responsibilities, stress, and mistakes of another. She couldn’t care for herself enough to teach someone else.
She’d left Esme.
She assumed someone would take over, spot it, and do something.
Or her little warning speech would be enough to warn Esme off from career-ruining misery.
But now, Charlie saw it wasn’t enough.
She failed Esme. She failed Edenbrook, and now she failed Levi.
Charlie didn’t want to ask what Esme had done, but she hoped it was benign – something like threatening a parent and having a lawsuit thrown in her face. She couldn’t watch another bright young intern lose a patient and devastate a family.
“What happened?” Charlie asked, not to sate curiosity but to be prepared. She knew that everyone would stare and whisper once she walked into Edenbrook again.
She didn’t look at Kyra as the light finally turned green again. While Kyra collected her thoughts, Charlie tugged her friend across the crosswalk.
Kyra sighed. There was no right way to say it, but even still, it felt wrong to say, “Levi died.”
Charlie’s world felt like it ended again.
“What?”
Charlie stopped in the middle of the street. Locked into her arms, Kyra was stuck there with her.
“She overdosed him. After everything his body went through, he couldn’t take it,” Kyra explained, looking at the crosswalk sign as she was eager to get out of the road.
“So, it was an accident?” Charlie meant to clarify, but it sounded more like a demand.
“Well…” Kyra swallowed, “We’re not sure.”
“You’re not sure?”
“She was close to the patient, and judging by the interviews we’ve conducted thus far… it’s possible that she did this to spare him, most likely with his permission. And that’s the result the admin office wants.”
“Why would they want that? That’s illegal in Massachusetts,” Charlie demanded, seemingly oblivious to the countdown on how much longer they had in this street.
“Charlie, let’s get out of the road,” Kyra implored.
“Just tell me.”
Kyra huffed, eyes scanning the cars waiting for the green light to run them over. Backed into a corner, she confessed, “Because, if she did, the hospital isn’t liable, and we can’t afford the lawsuit right now.”
Oh my God.
Finally, Charlie took a step, and Kyra immediately ushered them to the other side of the street. Only moments later, cars roared through the intersection, much to Kyra’s relief.
But Charlie was disgusted.
She was horrified. She hated that a death had turned into money so quickly. She hated that she hadn’t saved Esme and Levi. She hated that her experience with Mrs. Martinez had been repeated in another generation.
For the next block or so, Kyra and Charlie walked in silence.
Then Edenbrook came into view.
That place.
Full of death and destruction. Pain and misery. Mistakes and heartache.
An anxious building was suddenly clothed in danger.
She hated it. She hated the whole place and all it had done to those she cared about.
Kyra watched her carefully, hoping that she wouldn’t have to leave her friend in a bad state. Finally, she asked, “Should I not have told you?”
“No, you should have,” Charlie murmured, “Better you than someone like Declan Nash telling me it’s a tradition.”
Kyra squeezed Charlie’s arm, wishing she could absorb whatever terrible emotions she felt. She’d been through enough already.
“Do you think it was an accident?” Charlie bit her lip, unsure if she wanted the answer, “If only you got to decide, what would you do?”
“Me?” Kyra considered it, “I don’t know. I’ve only read a few interviews, and I hardly know her. But… looking at his file, I wouldn’t blame Esme if she did. With parents who wouldn’t allow him to give up, he didn’t have many other options, but… I don’t want her to get blamed for this for the sake of a hospital budget.”
Charlie appreciated Kyra’s fair consideration, but personally… Charlie felt sure of what Esme had done. And she couldn’t blame her, not when she saw Levi’s suffering. But it felt like a failure on Charlie’s part nonetheless. She should have been there to find other alternatives before it came to this.
They were close to Edenbrook now.
Soon, they’d say goodbye.
“Are you going to be okay?” Kyra inquired. She wouldn’t leave her friend like this, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t bring her back to the chaos in the administrative wing, and aside from Rafael, all of their other friends were currently working in Edenbrook, the source of the tragedy.
“I’ll be fine,” Charlie affirmed half-heartedly.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Kyra asked casually. Or it was supposed to sound casual – because, in actuality, it definitely wasn’t. Kyra wanted to know that Charlie wasn’t going to mope about all day or go on a downward spiral after the news.
“Not particularly,” Charlie shrugged, “While I’m here, I think I’ll run up and see Ethan.”
“Your boyfriend?” Kyra teased, and Charlie shot her a glare. Kyra nudged her playfully, “You should tell everyone, you know.”
“I will… eventually.”
“Eventually? So, they’ll find out by getting a wedding invite?”
“I’ll tell them when it’s time,” Charlie insisted, a ghost of a smile creeping across her lips at the joke.
“Just make sure I’m there when you tell Bryce. I want to see his reaction. Promise me, okay?” Kyra demanded once they got to the front door.
“Okay,” Charlie agreed weakly, feeling the color drain from her face as she stepped inside.
“Alright…” Kyra sighed, hesitating to leave. She balanced on either foot as she tried to think of a reason to stay, but ultimately, she just gave Charlie a hug, “Call me later, okay?”
Charlie nodded her agreement.
Kyra wasn’t totally satisfied, but she walked back to the admin office anyway.
Leaving Charlie in Edenbrook.
This building. This horrible building.
Charlie started walking to Ethan’s office on autopilot, but the halls plagued her. Ghosts of patients lost, mistakes made, and heartaches received whispered to her. And then they screamed.
The panic built in her chest – mixing with her sense of regret and responsibility.
Everything here had been a devastating failure.
In her blind rage, she knew exactly what she needed to do.
Ethan felt something similar as he walked to his office.
He’d spent his lunch break with Naveen. Their scheduled lunch had been disrupted by a crisis with Dr. Ortega, and their resulting time together amounted to picking up food from the cafeteria and eating it in Naveen’s office between emergency meetings.
This lunch turned into what Ethan usually called Naveen’s “retirement talks.” Every year or so, Naveen would tire of the politics and stress associated with their profession. He would meet Ethan for drinks or dinner, and he would propose a retirement. Throughout the meal, Naveen would build a fantasy of retirement – one where he read, fished, and hosted dinner parties with frequency. Ethan played the role of reminding Naveen why he loved his job. At the end of all of these talks, Ethan’s side always won because, truthfully, Naveen was never looking to retire. After all, even when Naveen almost died, he couldn’t stay retired for even a week after his recovery.
But today was different.
Today, during the hurried meal, Naveen hadn’t built a fantasy. He reflected on the reality of their job and the pain it can produce. The death of Levi Coates and the accusations against Dr. Esme Ortega were proof enough that this was a difficult burden to bear. Naveen felt responsible. So did Ethan.
It was Ethan’s department, and she worked under Ethan – not that Ethan could say he’d given much effort to her education recently. He’d been so entangled in his own life that he hadn’t been much of an attending. Perhaps he could have taught her something to prevent this.
Then there was the day Charlie came back to work… He’d seen Ortega. She’d been up to something. If Ethan hadn’t been so focused on Charlie, he would have seen it. He could have done something.
Though he felt similarly, he lacked Charlie’s rage and depth of pain.
So, when he opened his office door and saw his beloved girlfriend standing there, he smiled. Because it felt like old times, if just for a minute. When they were so eager for time together that they’d meet here in secret…. His heart ached for the innocence of that time.
Then, he remembered she was still nervous in Edenbrook, and she was pacing the room anxiously. This couldn’t be a romantic visit.
Ethan closed the door behind him quickly and greeted her with confusion, “Charlotte?”
“You know about Esme,” Charlie skipped pleasantries.
In the comfort and safety of this office, the apprehension poured out of her. In front of him, she was going to lose it.
Ethan frowned.
He wished she hadn’t found out yet. It was the last thing she needed.
“So, you know too then?” Ethan clarified, turning the lock on his office door out of precaution.  
Charlie didn’t answer. She just held her breath, sucking in air through her nose and holding it in her chest. She thought it would calm her. It didn’t.
“This is my fault,” she decided.
“You weren’t even here!” Ethan objected.
“But she’s my intern.”
“You were mine,” Ethan stepped towards Charlie, “And I never took responsibility for Mrs. Martinez’s treatment.”
“But you were there to teach me. You did what you could. I wasn’t there for Esme. I wasn’t even here at all!” Charlie retorted.
“What do you think you could have done?” Ethan asked, knowing she was expecting too much of herself.
“I knew something was wrong, Ethan. Esme was acting inappropriately. She asked me questions about ‘doing the right thing’ even when it’s not allowed. I should have told someone or at least told her more about what happened to me. All I did was give her a short speech and then leave,” Charlie huffed, “I failed her.”
Ethan felt strongly that she hadn’t. Or even if she had, she was justified given her traumatic near-death experience only a few weeks ago.
“You didn’t administer the dose. You’re not responsible.”
Charlie paused, her green eyes boring into his. He felt exposed as she seemed to read his rawest emotions with ease. And to prove it, she inquired, “You feel no responsibility then?”
Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to lie.
Charlie shook her head as if unsurprised, and she began to pace again.
The panic was rising, and tears prickled at her eyes.
“This fucking place,” Charlie scorned, “All I wanted to be was a doctor. I thought I would come here and learn from the best. I thought I’d leave tired and deeply in debt but satisfied with my decision. And at every turn, something horrible happens. Why am I even here? I came here to help people, but who has been helped? Levi? Mrs. Martinez? Bobby?”
“Charlie…” Ethan eyes softened, “You’ve helped a lot of people.”
“Not enough. Not enough for this…” Charlie felt like she was breaking.
She was cracking and splintering. She was giving up.
“Why am I even trying to be a doctor if I’m just getting people killed?”
“Charlotte,” Ethan didn’t expect to react so viscerally, but something about her accusation stung him deeply. He placed either hand on her shoulder and insisted, “You haven’t killed anyone.”
“I can’t do this,” she shook her head so quickly, so fervently that her snow-dampened curls flew, “I can’t come back here. I can’t come back to Edenbrook, where nothing goes right and everyone gets hurt. Ethan… I’m leaving medicine.”
He could have sworn the earth stopped turning.
“Charlotte,” Ethan began, prepared to give a speech on why she was wrong, but she cut him off.
“I’ve already made up my mind. I made it up before I even got here. I can’t take another tragedy in this hospital. I can’t keep going, Ethan. I’m literally building up my tolerance just to stand in this office! How am I supposed to practice again?”
“You haven’t given yourself enough time!” Ethan asserted.
“It’s been over a month. How much more time will it take, Ethan?”
“Naveen is willing to give you as much time as you need.”
“But when is enough time? Ethan, there isn’t enough time! I am broken. I lost the instinct. I can’t do it anymore,” she felt like she was begging him to understand, just as he was begging her to change her mind.
“You are not broken, no matter what. You haven’t even tested the instinct to know if it’s lost,” Ethan knew that pinpointing the holes in her argument would do little to sway her, but it felt like all he had.
“I can’t keep going like this, Ethan,” Charlie said so passionately that Ethan instantly knew she was right. His hand went to hers, and he squeezed it.
“I know…” he murmured.
For a second, she thought she’d won. But the racing panic and horror didn’t leave her mind…
“But you don’t have to quit to change this,” Ethan decided.
Charlie frowned, but having decided on his mission, Ethan ignored her. He went to his desk and collected the chart for the newest patient of the Diagnostics Team – a patient they hadn’t even seen yet.
He handed the file to her and told her, “Read it.”
“I’m not even on duty. I can’t read this,” Charlie dropped the chart back to his desk.
“You can, and you are. And read it quickly because you’re going with us to meet the patient.”
“I’m on leave.”
“I’m your supervisor, and if you’re going to quit, I’m taking you off leave first,” Ethan determined.
It was a risk.
He could either change her mind or make it much, much worse.
“You should grab your jacket. The patient is at a ski resort, and we’re leaving in half an hour,” Ethan announced authoritatively.
She could say no, of course. She was very good at calling him out on his bullshit, particularly when he claimed authority he didn’t have. But he didn’t think she would because she wanted to know just as much as he did.
“So, what? You don’t want to leave me alone when I’m upset, and you think you can entice me back into work with a mystery? Is that what you have planned?” Charlie accused Ethan.
“No,” Ethan stood firmly, “I’m bringing you because I know you’ll solve it, and you need a reminder of all the good you’ve done here.”
Charlie made a show of rolling her eyes. She hated that he dared to fight her on her own career decisions, particularly after everything she’d been through. But she still reached for the chart. Just as he suspected, she didn’t continue the fight. Instead, she gathered her coat and started reading about the patient.
She wanted to know if Ethan was right.
And honestly… part of her hoped he was.
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Author’s Note: Thank you so much for continuing to support this series! I didn’t mean to take this last hiatus, but with finishing up my semester, graduating, saying goodbye to friends, and moving, I ended up needing more time than I originally imagined.
Please share your thoughts on this chapter - and Kyra finding out!
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sserpente · 4 years ago
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Pastel Blue (Chapter 5)
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Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape this godforsaken place anyway.  
Find all chapters on my masterlist! (Unfortunately, Tumblr will not display my recent posts if I add a link.)
It almost felt like no time at all. Had one whole week really passed already since Loki had accommodated himself in her unit? In the books, the characters who had to share a room usually fell in love by the end of the story or, even better, they had some mind-blowing sex and then ended up together, and yet all she had done was play with her vibrator like it would be taken away from her the next morning for good.
But unlike any of the mischief and the chaos she had expected, Loki was a rather pleasant roommate. He was respectful, calm, tidy… and she doubted he had ever entered her room without her permission. Unless, of course, he had done so in her absence.
Jess gnashed her teeth, her eyes fixed on her brown hair in the mirror. Ariana had found this lovely youth magazine in the nineties yesterday, one that had already been thrown in the bin. The only reason she had taken it was because the cover showed a blue phone booth with Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor on the cover. Jess had spent all morning skimming through it, reading the headline article as well as chuckling about the gossip and the ads—even though some of them were rather sexist.
At some point, she found a double page on fancy hairstyles for women and now struggled to copy one of the elegant braids to spice up her own hair. Thus far, she had been failing miserably, flinching with a grunt when Loki opened the bathroom door. He tilted his head upon seeing her sitting on the edge of her bathtub with her tongue sticking out a little and her fingers entangled in her brown hair.
“Yes?”
“I meant to get washed but clearly, you are occupied in here.”
Jess huffed, flinging the hair tie into the sink. “I’ve been trying to braid my hair. Like this, look!” She pointed at the magazine. The woman in the picture looked like it had taken her five minutes to create this look, and they’d had the audacity to rate this style ‘quick and easy’.
Loki chuckled. “You look like a scarecrow.”
“Why, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take your shower, I give up on this.” She said.
His sigh surprised her. “Allow me.”
“What?” Jess’ reply was all but a chirp but Loki had already approached her and fetched the hair tie from the sink. The braid was indeed a simple one, and as he stood behind her to part her hair for her, he had to refrain from letting her know just how soft it felt.
He had often braided his mother’s hair as a child. It was an activity that had calmed him down whenever Thor and his friends had made fun of how fond he was of books and preferred to use his mind and tricks rather than raw strength in play fights. The hand movements he was so familiar with that he had no need to look. Instead, he met Jess’ eyes in the mirror. She swallowed, and for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the whimpers coming from her bedroom at night.
Quickly, he averted his gaze again, parting her hair to reveal the earrings dangling down her earlobes. They shimmered in the artificial light of the bathroom. He had never seen her without them, come to think of it.
“They are moonstones.” She said when she noticed his glance. His finger brushed against her left earring once more, making it swing a little. “M got them for me on my birthday. The stone is said to soothe emotional instability and stress, and to stabilise emotions.” After all, her own parents were unlikely to buy her birthday presents anymore. “He asked me to always wear them… that they would protect me from evil.”
Loki hummed. He was familiar with the healing properties of moonstones. They were rather common on Asgard too. Only it made him wonder why Mobius would be so keen on her keeping them on at all times.
“Do you truly believe that?”
She shrugged. “I choose to.”
His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her neck and he sucked in a deep breath. Jess’ lips parted. She was indeed a beautiful woman, was she not? Loki pondered if she was aware of just how alluring she was. How delectable she sounded when she came undone, believing so naïvely that he was unable to hear the fun she had with herself.
Lust flared up in his blue eyes, his fingers caressing her neck once more, and him braiding her hair all of a sudden turning into a subtle excuse to touch her over and over, to explore what their physical connection meant to him. Then it hit him. The inexplicable tension between them was indeed sexual too.
It was perfect, was it not? If Jess desired him, in whatever way she imagined to… then perhaps he could make use of her attraction, especially as this meant that he too would get to blatantly act on those carnal needs simmering right beneath the surface of his very core. He could not possibly trust her beyond that.
“There.” He announced, finishing up the braid by tying the loose ends together with her hair tie. She looked exactly like the model in the magazine now—only Loki had done an even better job. Jess swallowed once more, wishing, subconsciously, that he would touch her one last time. When he stepped away from her instead, she came to suppress a disappointed whimper.
“M is, um… you’ll be sent to a different unit next week.” She said, breaking the oddly peaceful but palpable silence between them.
“Am I?”
“Yeah. Reese recovered well, I mean, that’s what M told me. He will take over after the party.”
“What party?”
Jess stood, clutching the sink behind her for support—Loki did not fail to notice how flustered she was now, almost as if him braiding her hair had intensified whatever it was she felt for him. It had been a long time since he had last had to think this way upon meeting someone of the opposite sex, let alone a mortal woman.
“Dave is celebrating his anniversary this weekend. It’s a big deal here at the TVA, much more important than birthdays. M didn’t tell you about it, then.” She concluded.
Loki shook his head slowly and decided to give her a smirk. Her reaction, blood biting at her cheeks, pleased him. “I’d dare say I am not invited to your silly festivities.”
“M is thinking about it. About inviting you, I mean. And I guess you could… use a break from all… this. Besides, apart from security, everyone will be drunk by midnight. Lots of snacking and dancing…”
Loki rolled his eyes. He had already hated these kinds of parties back on Asgard. Fandral would shamelessly flirt with three women at once, Volstagg would stuff himself into a coma and Thor would brag with his hammer on the dance floor, making the women believe they could lift it as they danced with him.
If anything, however, this absurd anniversary was the perfect opportunity for him to let his charm play and gain her trust. Jess sighed, prompting him to look up and meet her eyes. She stood, approaching him with the hint of a smile both scornful and compassionate at the same time… and then wrapped her arms around him.
Loki tensed up, his arms hanging by his side motionlessly. Physical affection was the last thing he had expected in a place like this, even from Jess. Perhaps, gaining her trust would be easier than he thought it would be, and still, part of him was unable to deny how much he enjoyed knowing that someone at least pretended to care, as peculiar as she was. Her touch felt like someone had set his entire body ablaze.
“Listen, I know you’ve been through shit and I know you hate everyone right now, including me. M may or may not have red on his ledger but you’re a part of the team now. You’re one of us. If we don’t stand up for each other, then who will?”
“I never agreed on becoming a part of the team.” Loki responded darkly.
Jess moved away from him a little, her smile faltering. “Me neither.”
~*~
“You’ll have to explain that to me one more time. When your father, I mean, Odin, fell into the Odinsleep—whatever the hell that means—your mother gave you the throne?”
Loki hummed. That was the part of the story Thor had left out upon telling S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the other silly secret organisations run by mortals how dangerous and menacing his adoptive brother was.
Jess was flicking through one of the thickest books he had ever seen. It was a collection of astronomical anomalies written down in a language not even Loki could decipher and it was so big she had to stand upright rather than sit at her desk to read the top of the pages. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes.
“Thor was no longer on Asgard and Mother refused to leave Odin’s side. I was the only one left fit to rule—only Thor’s idiotic friends did not accept me as their king.”
“Let me guess… they pretended you were the villain so you became the villain?” Nibbling on her candy necklace, she bit off a pearl with a loud crack. Loki flinched a little. It was short of a miracle she had not chipped any of her teeth yet.
“I saw my chance,” he said. “So I took it. I never saw myself as the villain. And I never lied. I was the rightful king of Asgard.”
Jess bent over to read the small print. She was still wearing the plait Loki had braided into her hair. It swayed from side to side a bit as it fell over her shoulder, revealing her neck. Her scent was almost unnerving—unnerving in a most ferocious and desirable way. Intoxicating. He had sensed it when she had hugged him already and now, part of him was greedy to press her close to him once more and feel her body against his. He suppressed a growl. He should be enjoying his quest to tiptoe nearer and nearer to getting this ridiculous collar off his neck and make this mortal woman swoon over him—not the other way around. He was the one in control. He had to be.
So he stepped closer, his tread so quiet Jess never heard him approach her.
“So you came to like it. The power of the throne?” She said without looking up. Loki nodded, oblivious to the fact she could not see him. She cursed under her breath when his arm brushed against hers, eliciting a barely noticeable smirk from him. It was amusing how quickly he could read her reactions to him now.
The Trickster swallowed. “I meant to prove myself to the man who never saw me as a potential heir in the first place.”
“How did Thanos find you?” Jess choked out when he moved in closer, demanding all of her attention to himself. It almost scared him how fast she forgot about the massive book on her desk, her eyes fixed on his face as if it bore the answer to all of her questions. Loki’s expression hardened nonetheless, regardless of how much the urge to taste her lips rose within him.
“How much do you know?”
“I know what M told me… that you were his ally and he helped you take over Earth in exchange for the Tesseract.”
Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Then you know nothing.” Her glance found his lips now too. He was standing close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her mouth, her heart beating more rapidly with every passing second.
Fuck. Her office was being monitored. Sucking in a deep breath, she moved away from him and closed the thick book on her desk shut. “It’s late. We should head to the party.” She cleared her throat. “You can, um… wait for me here so I can get changed. Give me five.”
Loki nodded, taken by surprise until he noticed her glancing at the chunky surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Ah… there it was. The fear or shame or both to be caught being involved with him. Loki gnashed his teeth when she rushed past him, fleeing from the scene. That, at least, was something he was familiar with.
He remained in the office, almost as if glued to the spot, for a while longer before he made his way towards the cafeteria where the festivities would take place. Jess would catch up—besides, so he had to admit, he was indeed looking forward to seeing their faces when he joined the ridiculous little party and what it might give him to work with.
“Really, that’s all? That’s almost a little disappointing.” He heard Dave say in the distance, presumably a few yards away from him, his voice ricocheting through the dark hallway.
Loki stopped dead in his tracks. As silent as a mouse, he leaned against the wall, melted into it almost, and slowed down his breathing.
“Yes…” Another voice that Loki identified as Mobius’, replied. “We did take a risk with them but I must admit, I too almost expected a little… more. I thought one of them might… feel something, you know—a connection or recognition, maybe.” Loki could hear his suit ruffle as he shrugged. “Well, timelines can be unpredictable. We do know that better than anyone else.”
Connection. Recognition? For some peculiar reason, he was certain the pair were speaking about him. Him and… Jess? Who else could they possibly mean? His gut feeling, however, told him that he should, seidr or not, get rid of the security footage in Jess’ office as soon as possible. Whatever it was Mobius wanted to see unfolding between them, he was not going to grant him the satisfaction of presenting it to him on a silver platter.
Fortunately enough, they were too far away to hear him, he realised that once more when Jess’ footsteps echoed through the hallway. He knew it was her without even looking behind himself and yet, found his heart skipping a beat when she touched his arm.
“Ready? You know they might give you suspicious looks as soon as you… what are you doing?”
Loki gave her a disarming smile. “Nothing. Shall we?”
~*~
A/N: Put your swords up, put ‘em up; it’s going down.
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hysterialevi · 4 years ago
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Hjarta | Chapter 8
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Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.
Point of view: third-person
Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor
This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter
THE NEXT MORNING
BJORNHEIMR, THE LONGHOUSE
Combing his fingers through his hair, Eivor finished tying the last link of his braid as beams of sunlight steadily began to seep through his window, signifying the start of a new day. He could hear birds singing in a chipper tone just outside the wooden walls, and in the distance, he detected the subtle sound of seawater crashing against Bjornheimr’s shores.
The weather today seemed to be much more peaceful compared to what they experienced previously. Eivor could still feel a cold chill blowing freely throughout the longhouse, but it wasn’t nearly as forceful as what they had to endure before. 
The fires they lit were more than enough to fend off the icy breeze that tickled their skin, and the sun’s warmth only added to the heat that was beginning to gather in their home. 
All-in-all, it was a rather serene morning to welcome the people of the sleepy village. Unfortunately however, what the day lacked in cumbersome weather, it made up for in altercations.
Not too far away from where he sat, Eivor could hear Sigurd and Styrbjorn’s voices booming inside the war room, echoing off the walls like a chain of thunder. Their words were somewhat muffled thanks to the many layers of wood that stood between Eivor’s quarters and the main hall, but even then, it wasn’t difficult for the young man to guess what was going on.
It sounded like they were arguing about the same thing that brought Dag to the docks yesterday. Sigurd’s tone was gruff with a familiar edge of annoyance, and the king himself seemed to reflect his son’s dour mood. There were occasional bouts of silence where the two of them would calm down for a few moments, only to erupt once again when someone’s anger got flared up.
Eivor just wished he could stop it somehow. It wasn’t difficult to see that Sigurd’s state of mind had deteriorated rapidly over the past couple days, and the young man wanted to help the prince before it became any worse. He cared about his new friend despite only having known him for a week, and the gradual rise in his frustration admittedly ignited a sense of worry in Eivor’s heart.
He just feared that Sigurd would be even more distant now that the Wolf-Kissed’s feelings had been made clear. The older man appeared to have no issues opening up about his emotions in the past, but his demeanor completely shifted as soon as Eivor confessed to his feelings during their short fishing trip.
He closed himself off in a way that Eivor had never witnessed before, and within seconds, it felt as if they were strangers again. It was one of the few conflicts that led the young man to wonder if Ingrida’s prediction had been correct all along, and if so, he feared what that would imply for the wolf that continued to haunt the prince’s dreams.
If someone really dared to turn traitor in the near-future, Eivor couldn’t even begin to imagine the chaos that would ensue. There was enough tension hanging over Bjornheimr thanks to Kjotve’s barbarity that something as severe as betrayal would’ve done nothing except cause it to snap. 
It was the last thing they needed in a time like this, and the easiest way for Kjotve to to get the upper hand. They couldn’t let it happen.
Taking his leave from the bedroom, Eivor finally decided to move on with his day and strode out into the main hall, only to find himself more intrigued by the argument as the longhouse’s structure amplified the men’s voices.
Sigurd was currently leading the conversation with an iron grip in his tone, and the level at which he spoke even frightened Eivor to a certain degree with how alarmingly calm it was. The anger seemed to have vanished entirely from the prince’s rotten mood, and left nothing but exhaustion and defeat in its wake. 
It was the intonation of a man who’d lost every shred of patience he once contained, and Eivor didn’t even have to see Sigurd’s face to know that he was at the end of his rope.
“...I can’t do this anymore, father.” The man said, barely speaking above a whisper. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Every single day, the villagers of Bjornheimr ask me where their king is, and every single day, I have to come up with an excuse to explain your absence. Oh, my father’s just busy. Oh, he’s occupied with something else. Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be here soon.”
A sudden thud emitted, leading Eivor to assume that Sigurd had just slammed his fist on the table.
“I’m done with it!” He exclaimed. “I may be next in line for the throne, but you are still the king. I can’t keep stepping in for you. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s alright. Kjotve continues to threaten our shores on a daily basis, and you’re struggling to even stand upright! What more do you expect me to do?”
Styrbjorn sighed deeply, entirely at a loss for words. “...My son, you know I am trying my best--”
“--Are you?”
“--Yes, Sigurd. I am. But it’s not as easy as you think.”
“We are at war, father,” the prince emphasized. “Nothing is going to be easy. But that’s no excuse to spend all your time sulking in the longhouse, drowning yourself in mead. Do you remember what you said to me the night before we left Fornburg? You told me not to worry. You told me this wouldn’t be an issue. You promised it.”
“And what did you tell me?” Styrbjorn countered. “You assured me that you would do everything in your power to make this marriage a success. And yet, I see you doing nothing except gallivanting around Bjornheimr with Eivor in tow, completely turning a blind eye to your betrothed.”
Sigurd’s irritation only escalated at the response. “I-- you know nothing of my relationship with Eivor. He is an honorable man, and he has helped me through many things as of late. He understands the necessity of this alliance, just as I do. Do not try to turn the blame on him.”
“And what would you have me do, exactly, Sigurd?”
The prince’s voice became hardened with steel. “Be the king these people think you are. Deliver the promises you made, and stop hiding in the shadows whilst I do everything in your absence! The whole point of this alliance is to rally an army large enough to snuff Kjotve out for good. How are we supposed to do that when our own king is constantly stumbling over his own two feet?”
“Your reckless behavior is hardly going to help defuse the situation either, Sigurd. Need I remind you that you nearly got Arngeir’s son killed? Where would we be now if Eivor had been slain in those woods? What do you think the state of this alliance would be? Have you ever considered that?”
“Of course I have! But unlike you, I intend to learn from my mistakes. Not repeat them over and over again.”
Sigurd let out a breath and stepped back from the war table, putting an end to their semantic circles.
“...Enough.” He muttered. “I’m done with this. I have my own duties to attend to, and I’ve wasted enough time arguing with you. If you must send Dag after me again, I’ll be discussing matters with Ulfar near the training yard. Otherwise... just leave me be.”
Shutting down their argument, Sigurd stormed out of the war room before Styrbjorn even had a chance to reply and marched into the main hall, practically leaving a trail of flames behind him with how aggravated he was. 
His brow was crinkled with a deep sense of fury, and in the silence that followed their heated conversation, Eivor heard nothing but the firm thumps of the prince’s footsteps echoing throughout the longhouse.
When the older man noticed the Wolf-Kissed standing outside however, he halted in his tracks and stared at his friend in a shocked manner, unsure of how to react. The veil of rage hanging over his expression suddenly disappeared, and a look of shame singed itself into his face once he realized Eivor had just heard everything.
“E-Eivor?” Sigurd blurted out, coming to a sudden stop. “I... I didn’t know you were there.” He lowered his head in embarrassment, dreading to hear how the man would respond to his next question. “...How long have you been standing here?”
Eivor softened the truth somewhat, not wishing to cause Sigurd anymore stress. “Only for a short while. Don’t worry, I didn’t hear much of your conversation.”
The prince didn’t buy it. “We were hurling our words at each other as if shouting across a battlefield. There’s no way you didn’t catch every single syllable.”
The young man gazed down at the floor. “...I don’t mean to pry, Sigurd.”
His companion waved a dismissive hand. “No, it isn’t your fault. We weren’t exactly being quiet. I just wish you didn’t have to listen to all that. I apologize.”
Eivor’s curiosity heightened. “What’s wrong, exactly? Is this about the ‘problem’ Dag approached you with yesterday? Is your father alright?”
Sigurd stumbled over his words, unsure of how to open up about the subject. “No. He’s...”
The man trailed off for a moment and crossed his arms in thought, pondering whether or not to be honest about what was going on. He may have been hesitant to share information as delicate as this, but he trusted Eivor. He knew the younger man would never pass undue judgement on him, and on top of that, his friend had already witnessed a good portion of the conflicts within their family. There was no point in keeping him in the dark any longer.
“...My father is a drunk,” Sigurd confessed. “His habit has been getting worse lately.”
Eivor glanced back at the war room. “The king? Truly?”
The prince’s tone lowered with indignation. “Much to my dismay, yes. It’s not something many people know about. A king has to keep his reputation, after all. Apart from you, Dag is the only other one aware of my father’s problems. Everyone else is oblivious.”
The Wolf-Kissed stepped closer to the other man. “Has your father always been like this?”
“No. Not always. He first developed the habit after my mother passed away. There have been a few times when he’s managed to put down the bottle, but in the end... it always comes back. Like a pair of shackles that just... won’t let go. And this war with Kjotve certainly isn’t helping him recover.”
There was a brief pause in Sigurd’s speech, and he gave Eivor an inquisitive look.
“Eivor...” he said, keeping his voice down, “...can I ask for your opinion on something?”
The young man nodded. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
Sigurd’s expression slumped with guilt. “...Do you think I’m being a bad son?”
The question took Eivor by surprise. “No. Why? Do you?”
A somber sigh escaped the prince’s lips. “Part of me does. I just... feel like a failure.”
“Why’s that?”
Sigurd wandered over to one of the tables in the longhouse, speaking as he walked.
“You must understand, before my mother died, she was bed-ridden for a while due to her injuries. I spent lots of time talking with her during those days, and one of her last wishes was for me to take care of my father.” 
He took a seat at the table, resting a hand on the surface. “...I think she always knew he would become like this once she was gone. She knew he wouldn’t be able to cope. So I promised her I’d do my best to keep him safe.”
Eivor joined his side. “And do you not believe you’ve done that?”
Sigurd shrugged in discouragement. “Well, look at us. Two decades have passed since my mother left this realm, and my father is still in the same place where he began. His addiction is only growing worse, and I’m starting to lose my patience. I just feel like I’ve disappointed my mother. I feel like I’ve failed to keep my word.”
The younger man frowned in empathy. “No, Sigurd. If your mother was anything like you, I’m sure she’d understand. But if you wish to help your father overcome this, you must try to be more patient with him. It’s not so easy to get rid of something like this.”
“I know.” Sigurd replied, sounding sharper than he intended. “My father’s been dealing with this ever since I was a boy. I know it’s not that easy. But I’m at a loss for what to do. I keep trying to help him and he just... won’t let me. He shoos me away like a pestering fly, and ignores my words no matter how many times I repeat them.”
The prince brought a hand up to his temple, rubbing it out of stress.
“I wish he would wake up and realize the urgency of our situation. We are at war. This is no time to be idling around. Our clan needs him, and so do I. Why can’t he see that?”
Eivor cocked a brow. “What about Dag? Has he ever tried to help?”
Sigurd scoffed harshly. “Dag? Psh. That man has all but made himself scarce these days. He hardly speaks to me anymore. It’s like we’re complete strangers. I don’t know what’s happened to him, but he won’t come anywhere near me now. He acts as if he doesn’t even know me.”
The Wolf-Kissed’s heart ached for the man. “...I’m sorry, Sigurd. I know you care for him.”
“I do. But I suppose that never meant anything to him. Or to anyone else, really. Mostly everyone I know has either stopped listening to me, or simply abandoned my side altogether. I don’t know if it’s me that’s the issue, or them, but... in all honesty, Eivor, you’re the only one I can trust now. You always take the time to hear me out, and I know you’ll be there when I need you. It... it means a lot.”
“I just wish I could do more to help.”
The older man shook his head. “You’re sitting here speaking to me. That’s already more than what most people can say.”
Sigurd calmed down somewhat and shifted in his seat, taking on a gentler tone. “...Eivor, you know what it’s like to lose your parents. Did your mother or father have any final wishes before they passed? Any hopes that you find yourself constantly trying to fulfill?”
Eivor was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know, truth be told. We never had the chance to discuss anything like that. Both of my parents were killed instantly when Kjotve raided our home. Any last wishes they might’ve had followed them to the grave.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Although...” the young man continued, “my father was always encouraging me to walk the path to Valhalla. His goal was to raise me as a warrior, and as a man of honor. I imagine if he were still here, he’d want me to pursue that on my own. So, I try.”
“A worthy pursuit,” Sigurd remarked. “Your father would be proud of you.”
Eivor beamed fondly at that. “...Thank you, Sigurd.” He turned away briefly and stared aimlessly at the view in front of him, thinking back to his childhood. “You know, when I was a boy, I actually used to be angry at my father. He sacrificed his honor in order to save me, and I once viewed him as a coward for it. I felt abandoned. Betrayed. I even almost threw away his axe one time. Thankfully, Ulfar stopped me.”
A puzzled look spread across Sigurd’s face. “What do you mean he sacrificed his honor?”
“Kjotve made a deal with him during the raid,” he explained. “He told my father that if he laid down his axe, he’d let the rest of our clan go, including me and my mother. She begged him not to listen to Kjotve, but... her words fell on deaf ears. My father complied in the end, and he allowed himself to die unarmed. As you can imagine though, Kjotve broke his promise. So ultimately, my father’s death meant nothing.”
Sigurd shook his head, leaning closer to Eivor. “No, not nothing. You’re still here. You still have a chance. Make use of it.”
“...Perhaps you’re right,” the Wolf-Kissed conceded. “I just hope I can reclaim my father’s honor before I die. He’s suffered in Helheim for long enough. I won’t allow myself to be killed like him. I won’t die without honor.”
The prince nodded in approval. “Good.”
Eivor took a second to gather himself and decided to put the topic to rest, proposing a new idea to the older man.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean for this to take such a grim turn. What say you to a quick walk around the village? I can show you some more places where I like to relax. It might help you take your mind off things.”
Sigurd sighed, lowering his head. “...Not today, Eivor. I have to see Ulfar soon, and frankly, I’m just not in the mood for it. I fear all this business with my father has put me in a rather foul state. I’d... rather be alone for now.”
Eivor was disappointed at the response, but respected it nonetheless. “It’s alright, Sigurd. I understand.”
The other man displayed a faint smile. “You always do.”
Sigurd stood up from the table and rolled his shoulders, attempting to wring the stiffness out of his body. He appeared to be feeling better than when they first started their conversation, but it was evident that he still carried a colossal weight on his shoulders.
“I should get going.” He said, sounding utterly drained. “Ulfar will be waiting for me, and I don’t wish to vex that man any further.”
“Is everything alright between you two?”
“Yes,” Sigurd reassured. “He just wants to discuss Bjornheimr’s defenses in case Kjotve shows up. I warned him about your suspicion that he might strike back in retaliation. That’s all.”
Eivor found some relief in that. “Well, tell Ulfar to let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist. I want to protect this village as much as he does.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sigurd took one last glance at the younger man and gazed at him warmly, unable to hide the affection shimmering through his eyes. He may have been restraining himself from taking things any further with the Wolf-Kissed, but that didn’t mean his feelings were wholly eradicated.
“Thank you for listening to me, Eivor. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I’m not normally this irritable, but... things have been complicated, to say the least.”
Eivor nodded. “Of course. This war has taken a toll on everyone, I fear.”
“Indeed. Which is why I’m grateful that I still have someone I can speak with. You’re one of the few things keeping me going. I’m not sure what I’d do if I had to bear all of this on my own.” Sigurd gently cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll see you some other day, my friend. This next week is going to be chaotic for me, but hopefully, I’ll be able to slip away here and there. I’d like to spend more time with you before the wedding starts.”
“Likewise.”
“Then let us pray that the gods give me an occasional break,” the prince joked. “Odin knows I could use one. Goodbye, Eivor. I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant than mine. Don’t hesitate to approach me if you need anything.”
Eivor watched as Sigurd strolled away, wishing desperately that he could comfort the man somehow. He wanted more than anything to just give him a simple hug, but alas, he knew what would follow if he allowed himself to get any closer to the warrior.
So, instead, he settled with a friendly wave and remained seated at the table, keeping his eyes on Sigurd as the prince began to vanish in the distance. He wanted to say so many more things to his friend before his departure, but he knew it was no longer his place.
They had already decided that their relationship had reached its boundaries, and no matter how difficult it would be, Eivor intended to keep it that way.
“Farewell, Sigurd.” He whispered. “May you wander into calm seas... and may the darkness part wherever you roam.”
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riderunlove · 3 years ago
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Guns and Ghosts 14/16(?)
Normal was more difficult than he’d hoped, because it was a new normal. Not that anyone would acknowledge the new parts. He remembered everything that he had done for Caleb- and how he had been treated there. Sometimes he flinched when Reggie threw himself at him for a tackle hug, or started looking for exits when Alex started a very frustrated rant. If they noticed his reactions, then they got twitchy. He tried explaining a couple of times, and they had just made feeble excuses and left, not ready to talk about it. It got even harder as flashes of the in between time started to come back. He stopped calling Julie “boss”, unable to stand her pained expression. They’d lived with his quiet shadow and didn’t want to be reminded of that. Undercover personas had never been his strength, but he would make this one work. He could be the version of him they needed, and he’d figure out the rest. He shoved the dark moments down, hid his nightmares, and never let on that some of the changes that made him into the ghost were permanent. There were days it was agonizing and overwhelming, but he would do what it took to protect his family-even if it was from him. It mostly worked, but nothing was foolproof. 
Last night, Julie, Flynn, Reggie and Alex had all gone to Ray’s for dinner- which he didn’t even find out about until he asked Bobby later while scrounging for leftovers. He told himself it was expected, it was almost Alex’s birthday. They always celebrated with Ray. Trevor wouldn’t have let him go anyway. He wasn’t supposed to leave the base.  He’d been wandering the halls, trying to relax enough to sleep when he’d overheard them return.  Alex had been ecstatic because he’d finally gotten to introduce Willie to Ray- and of course it went wonderfully. Luke wondered briefly if anyone had noticed his absence. 
But today was going to be great. He’d make German chocolate cake for Alex’s birthday, like he did every year. Reggie was the chef, but he was a better baker. Assuming Alex doesn’t think I'm trying to poison him, half the time he refuses to eat something if he knows it’s from me, he thought bitterly. He shoved those feelings down, if he didn’t get started he wouldn’t be finished before his spar with Reggie that afternoon. 
He wasn’t alone for long. 
“What are you up to?” Julie asked, a tentative smile on her face. 
“German chocolate cake for Alex,” he replied. A peace offering. 
“He’ll love it!  Can I help?” 
“Definitely, the recipe is a bit complicated.”
They fell into a rhythm, an easy conversation flowing as they reminisced on previous birthdays, terrible gifts and general shenanigans. 
Soon enough the cake was in the oven, and the topping was simmering on the stove, and all that was left was the clean up. The worst part of baking by far. 
He felt Julie looking at him, and he glanced up to meet her eyes. A soft smile turned into a smirk and they reached for the spoon at the same time. He grabbed it first, but she surprised him by closing her hand over his, lifting it and the spoon and smearing batter across his cheek. 
“It’s on now, Molina,” he threatened playfully. He swiped his finger through the bowl, and booped her nose, covering it in batter in retaliation. Their cake batter battle resulted in both of them covered in it, and the kitchen an even bigger mess. 
The unrestrained laughter, and Julie’s beautiful smile were more than worth it. She helped him clean up, washing dishes with her side pressed firmly against his. For a few brief moments, everything felt perfect. 
She pulled him into a gentle hug before going to a meeting and Luke headed towards the gym. He could get a couple of sets in before Reggie showed. He loved him dearly, but he was always late. 
When he arrived, Alex was already there, pretending to work out on the treadmill. Luke pointedly ignored his suspicious gaze  even as it made his skin itch. Sudden changes were difficult for his friend and he didn’t want to push him. It’s not personal. He’s always been anxious. The more times he told himself that lie, the less he believed it. He made Alex uncomfortable. He stretched, and started a short circuit workout. 
He’d completed the circuit twice when Reggie rushed in. “Sorry I’m late. I thought maybe we could use knives today.” 
A harsh cough from the other side of the room had Luke replying “I’ll pass, but you should use one. It’s good to practice with an armed opponent.”
Reggie nodded agreeably. “I’m ready if you are,” 
They started out simple, warming up muscle groups and practicing basics. Julie joined Alex, who was now just intensely observing. 
Reggie was struggling to focus and they definitely should not have been sparring with a knife. Distracted, he nearly stabbed Luke in the stomach. Unthinkingly Luke let himself phase out and the blade passed through harmlessly. 
For a beat no one moved, then Reggie’s face collapsed into guilt, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I could’ve really hurt you.” 
Luke forced an easy smile, “I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m fine. But I think we’re done with weapons today.” 
Reggie nodded carefully, clearly waiting for some other reaction. It came immediately.
“What the hell was that?” Alex demanded, striding towards them. 
Luke turned towards him in confusion. Dread pooled in his stomach. 
“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Julie asked, eyebrows creased in worry. 
He opened his mouth to reassure her, but was cut off. 
“You can phase? Can you do the poofing thing?” Alex was squaring up for an argument.    
Luke nodded. The sick feeling was spreading from his gut into his chest. 
“Oh, and now you stop talking too. I thought they had a solution,” frustration and hurt colored Alex’s voice.
“To stop the flickering, so my cellular structure doesn’t degrade. The rest is permanent,” he forced his tone to stay even.
”You didn’t feel the need to tell us? How are we supposed to trust you if you are going to hide things like this?” Alex’s expression closed off. 
“That’s not fair. I wasn’t hiding it, you assumed,” he countered desperately. 
“You let us, and we both know that,” Alex snapped coldly.
“I honestly thought you knew. I wanted you guys to be comfortable,” he was pleading now. 
“Comfortable, right, as if it’s that simple. You were Caleb’s pet nightmare for over a year. Don’t forget that I saw you in the field, I know exactly what you are capable of.  After Julie found you, you were incapable of making your own decisions. You wouldn’t even eat unless someone told you to but then miraculously you wake up as yourself again? Totally believable,” bitter anger leaked through Alex’s voice. 
“So what, you think this is some elaborate scheme with Caleb? That I’m secretly here to kill all of you?” Luke knew better than to rise to the bait, but the combination of fear, pain and anger swirling in his gut made it impossible to resist. First they wouldn’t talk about it, now they were going to use it against him. 
“I don’t know what this is, because I don’t know what you are. You’re not even human anymore.” 
Luke was too stunned to formulate a reply.
“Guys, this isn’t helping anyone.” Reggie broke in, voice shaking. He always hated it when they fought. 
Shock melting into a deep hurt, Luke took a slow breath and popped to the music room, grabbing his electric. He needed to be alone and they’d never look here. His friends still thought he couldn’t play. At first he was excited to tell them that he could, but a feeling of unease had stilled his tongue. Now he was glad he’d decided to wait. It gave him a safe place to be himself and try to work through his emotions. Emotions everyone believed he didn’t have anymore- or that he wasn’t allowed to have. Fuck he was so tired of being looked at like some kind of monster. Hell, Alex had essentially just called him one. The worst part is that he wasn’t even surprised.  He flipped through his notebook until he found an empty page, and let words flow.  
He played until his fingers bled, until his grumbling stomach and shaky hands pulled him out of his spiral. He checked his phone. No calls or messages, but it was much later than he thought. He’d definitely missed dinner, but the fridge had to have some kind of leftovers. 
“I thought you might have run off, you missed the big party,” Bobby drawled. 
Shit. Alex’s birthday dinner. 
“Nah, I just needed some time to myself. Process some things.” 
Bobby shook his head and chuckled darkly. “I’ll bet. Everyone seemed pretty tense.  Never thought I’d say this, but I think they preferred you the way you were when Julie found you.” 
Luke glanced at him sharply. 
“Sure, they kept complaining about wanting the real you back, but you were a lot easier to handle when you followed Julie around like a lost puppy.” 
He rolled his eyes, and huffed a bitter laugh, but the painful seed of doubt knotted in his heart grew. 
“They left you a plate. It’s in the fridge.” 
“Thanks.” 
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” Bobby said gently, studying him for a moment before rolling away. 
The plate of leftovers wasn’t the only thing in the fridge. The German Chocolate cake he’d made for Alex sat there, untouched. He cut himself a small piece and threw the rest of it away, allowing himself the petty action. 
The next morning everyone acted as though nothing had happened. “Where were you last night? You missed Alex’s birthday dinner.” Julie asked. 
Yeah and you let me, the growing doubt whispered. “I just needed some time to think, so much has changed.” Luke answered mildly. 
“You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?” She looked worried.  
“Of course.” He smiled, even as the lie burned. No one called him on it. The seed bloomed into thorns. 
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s-oulpunk · 4 years ago
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I know the amount of content I have been putting out lately has been lacking, and I feel like I’ve been making a lot of half assed excuses (both to myself and to you guys) so I wanted to take a chance to explain myself. I don’t know how much you guys actually care, but it’s been driving me insane so I need to say something.
I’ve said over and over again that the reason I’m not updating/posting frequently is because of school or because of an off day. And while technically those things aren’t wrong, it’s not the whole truth.
The truth is that I have always loved writing, ever since I was a little kid. I have always known it’s what I want to do with my life. And it used to be really easy for me to sit down at the computer and write about anything I wanted. It was therapeutic in a way.
But when I was 16 I went through a really traumatic event. I still loved writing and it was important to me, but I found it was a lot harder, emotionally, to do. I still wrote here and there but nothing really serious. I dabbled in playwriting and screenwriting and I loved them, but they weren’t the same as writing a novel or short story. I couldn’t tap into people’s emotions in the same way. I wanted so badly to be able to feel comfortable feeling those emotions again, but it was scary. I couldn’t do it, at least not for long periods of time.
But about a year ago I watched IT, and found myself suddenly struck by inspiration. I was still writing slowly but I wasn’t scared of tapping into that emotion, and I really, genuinely enjoyed writing again. I felt like my old self. It was freeing to feel that again.
I was really hesitant to start Denbrough Show because of all that, scared I wouldn’t be able to finish it. I almost proved myself right, but a few friends helped pull me back up and for that I am eternally grateful. I hadn’t written a multi-chapter story in years, and I’m still struggling with it, but I am determined to finish it no matter how long it takes.
But then, right after I finished Vendetta, I suddenly felt as if I had been drained of all my inspiration. And I don’t know why exactly. Part of it was I was discouraged by a lack of comments, part of it was I was discouraged by bigger/more popular writers getting more attention, and maybe part of it was the emotional drain Vendetta took on me. And the truth is I can’t truly blame anyone else for those things. I have always struggled with letting other people judge my worth, especially when it came to my art. I wanted so badly to see people’s reactions to my stories that it hurt me.
And I’m still struggling with that today. I love writing, and I love writing for these characters specifically. The Losers (especially Bill) mean so much to me, I really want nothing more than to just sit in front of my computer all day and think up different worlds for them. But it is emotionally exhausting.
While I have been doing a lot better than I was a few months ago, it’s still a struggle. And it’s hard not to get down on myself because of that. I want to go back to being the person I was a year ago, I want to be someone who posts frequently and doesnt overthink every single sentence. And the truth is this phase will end. Eventually I’ll get my inspiration back. But the for moment it’s incredibly frustrating and painful.
So while maybe I’m not posting every week or putting out a new short story as often as I used to, I am trying. I am writing, even if the final product isn’t going to be here as soon as I would like. And I am thinking of more ideas, even if I’m struggling to write them all out right now.
This is a really personal, scary subject for me and it’s been really hard for me to face and admit and even harder for me to write all this out. But I hope this post helps explain my current absence from AO3 a bit more. I do hope to start posting more frequently someday (hopefully soon) but for now I appreciate everyone’s patience and kindness. I really appreciate everyone reading this. I hope you’re all staying safe💕
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meetmeinthematinee · 5 years ago
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A Home Between the Waves -- CH 2
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A/N: TW for mentions of alcohol. No other warnings. 
Catch up and read ch1 here
He was a fixture in her classes for the next month. They’d developed an easy banter---gently teasing each other when they’d chat after class. John would help put the lane ropes back in and she’d pretend to not stare at the curve of his ass, the broadness of his back. Just as suddenly as he’d become someone she looked forward to seeing---he was gone. Without word or warning. She was used to that, working at the Continental. People came and went and sometimes never came again. It wasn’t like the other places she taught or her private clients---she knew enough to not ask after anyone. John’s absence gnawed at her in a way that caught her off guard. “Fuck.” She thought as another Tuesday went by without him. It’d been a month now. Thursday she resigned herself to never seeing him again. The pool was empty when she turned up and went through her routine. The door clicked softly shut and she heard the sound of someone walking towards her---slowly. She let go of the rope she was hauling across the water and turned. “Hi Helen.” Her breath caught in her throat. 
“John! It’s been a while.” A wide smile spread across her face. 
He looked pale and exhausted.
“I know. I’m---sorry. I wanted to let you know it will be a while before I can come back.”
“I can see that. You don’t look so good.” 
He laughed softly. “Yeah. I’m not too good. Getting better though. Well, I’ll see you around.” 
Helen chewed the corner of her lip as he left.
“Have dinner with me?” She called after him. “Tomorrow?”
He turned, slowly. “Dinner?” 
“Yeah---if you’re free?” 
“Are you fine with room service? Not really in any shape to travel anywhere at the moment.”
She tucked a strand of hair that had worked loose from her ponytail behind her ear.
“Room service is lovely. Is 7PM ok? I have a client in the early evening.”
“7 is good. I’m in room 813.” John still looked and felt utterly exhausted but that didn’t stop the almost fluttery feeling in his chest that had started since he’d stepped foot in the room. 
“I’ll let you get ready for class.” A wide smile lit up his face but quickly disappeared as soon as he started to slowly move toward the exit. 
“If you don’t feel up to it tomorrow just let me know, alright?” She called after him
“Tomorrow at 7.” he answered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The beauty of having clients at the Continental was that no one ever asked questions or commented on anything. No one batted an eye at Helen as she walked through the lobby, a little more put together than usual, her hair down, a pale pink silk blouse tucked into fitted oxblood pants with black patent leather pumps. She exchanged a friendly smile and nod with Charon as she passed his desk and headed toward the elevators. She pressed the button for the 8th floor and took a deep breath as the gilded doors slid shut. She didn’t feel nervous, exactly--just keenly aware of how out of practice she was. She’d asked him out after all. “He said yes. Just see how it goes. It’s not a marriage proposal, it’s dinner.” She thought as the soft ding of the elevator sounded and the doors opened again. She found her way to room 813 and stood in front of the door for a moment before reaching out and knocking.
It took a little while for John to answer. He looked through the peephole just to make sure it was Helen---he couldn’t take any chances in the state he was in---and opened the door.
He awkwardly stood and looked at her for a moment. She smiled widely and tilted her head, brows drawn together in confusion.
“You ok John?” 
“Yeah, sorry. Uh, come in.”
He stepped aside so she could enter. He gently closed the door as she walked further into the room. 
She looked around the room, taking in the space, the design of it, how little of John there was in here to give her any insight into who he was or might be.
“You look beautiful.” He said quietly from behind her.
She grinned and dropped her chin before turning to look at him.
“Thanks, John. You look handsome.” She rested her hand on his elbow and rubbed her thumb across his arm lightly. 
“This is a really nice sweater.” She admired.
John didn’t really know what to do with the compliment or with the fact that she was touching him. So gently. He felt his cheeks get warmer. 
“You look a lot better than yesterday. You have so much more colour in your face---and not because I just made you blush, John.” 
“It was nice to have something to look forward to.” He admitted with a shy smile. 
“Would you like a drink before we order?”
“That’d be nice.” She sank back into the leather armchair near the bar cart.
“Red ok?”
“Perfect.” 
He poured two glasses and handed her one before he slowly and very carefully eased himself into the chair next to hers. 
“I guess fucking on the first date is out of the question, huh.” She said with a wry smile.
John nearly spat his wine everywhere. He looked at Helen, his eyes wide with surprise.
“It’s ok. Swallow. I didn’t take you to be the hothouse flower type.”
He narrowed his eyes at her playfully.
“I’m definitely not that.” He paused and considered his next words carefully. “If I wasn’t injured…” He trailed off.
“Good to know.” She said with a smirk. 
“How was it that you wound up here?” 
“Here, right now here or here working here?”
“Whichever you want to answer.”
She licked her lower lip and set down her glass as she leaned forward. 
“I’m from a PT background. I didn’t work for a while and---don’t roll your eyes---but I was a stay at home wife. He was a surgeon. We met in college. He told me I needed to support him, since his hours were so long and blah blah.” She watched John as he listened. He didn’t seem to be listening as much as he was absorbing the information. “Anyways, I had a few clients that I saw every now and again but then we divorced. Well, I divorced him when I found out how many of those long hours weren’t actually for work. After that I wanted to go back to building a career, do something more rewarding. Someone from the Continental reached out to me and I decided to take a chance.”
“How much--”
“Do I know about this place?”
“Yeah.”
“I have an iron clad non disclosure agreement and a hefty salary. I know enough to keep from asking questions about the fact that sometimes people just disappear or show up with serious injuries that I somehow have to help them rehab.”
“What about you, John?”
“I know more than anyone ever should.”
She laughed softly.
“I meant are you or have you ever been married.”
“Oh.” He took a sip from his glass and traced his thumb over the stitching of the leather chair.
“No, never have been. If I was I definitely wouldn’t have invited you to have dinner with me here. There’ve been people, sure. In my line of work….” He trailed off.
“I travel a lot. The hours are rough and it’s---”
Helen laid her hand over his arm and squeezed gently. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain. There’s nothing wrong with putting yourself first.” She lifted a brow and tipped her glass at him before she continued. “It’s usually when people don’t do that that they run into trouble.” 
“I run into trouble no matter what.” A rueful smirk on his face as he gazed into his glass. 
He eased himself forward in the chair, wincing as he moved. 
“Are you hungry? We can order if you’d like.”
“I’ll help you up.” She said as she eyed him as he struggled to move.
He sighed in resignation and relented. To be touched so confidently and yet so tenderly filled him with apprehension. She helped him into a standing position and before he could get the words thank you out of his mouth hers was on his. 
His feeling of apprehension melted away with the soft warmth of her lips. Every movement she made was slow and careful. She captured his lower lip between her teeth and he opened his mouth to her. How she had so skillfully taken control and gotten him into this position was beyond his understanding. John unconsciously moaned as her tongue slid against his. He was breathless when she pulled away. Helen smiled and brought her fingers to her lips. She savoured the gentle burn of her upper lip from where John’s five o’clock shadow had rubbed against it. John ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. 
He rested his hand against her lower back and ushered her over to the small dining table, pulling out the chair for her. He rested his hands on the back of her chair and carefully leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you.” She said as she arranged the cloth napkin on her lap as the bellhop lifted the silver dome off her plate.
John echoed her sentiments and slipped the bellhop a coin.
They ate and luxuriated in each other’s company--trading jokes and secrets, preferences and life experiences in an open and honest way that Helen had so deeply longed for. John admired how grounded she seemed, how firmly rooted in care---both physical and emotional her life was. Not the kind of care that came at the expense of herself, a modern martyr in the service of others. No, she’d discovered the cost of living that way. She’d never go back to that place again. She’d grown and stepped into herself in a way that reinforced her values and boundaries. 
John seemed like even more of a mystery now. He blushed easily and folded into her touch. Listened so intently and responded so thoughtfully to her questions. He seemed kind---and maybe a little desperate to be recognized as such. “All of the man before her was at odds with his work---but then again, maybe it wasn’t.” She reasoned as she chewed another bite of food. The two of them quietly tried to figure the other out in between their conversation. The conclusion they both silently came to was that this---and they were worth further exploration.
Helen gripped John’s hand and turned it over, looking at his watch. 
“I should go. I have to drive home before I get too tired.” She said.
They were leaning against each other on the couch. John’s arm wrapped around her waist and her head on his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against her head. 
“You’re welcome to stay.” He said quietly.
“I’d really like to. It’s a very tempting offer.” She said before she turned and kissed him. 
“I just feel like it’s one thing to be seen visiting and another to be seen leaving here in the morning.”
“Mmm Good point. 
“Plus, you need all the rest you can get to heal properly---and I do need you to do that for me.”
“Noted.”
She wrote down her number on the back of her business card and left it on the side table.
“Don’t be a stranger, John.”
They shared another slow, longing, kiss before she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. 
 TAG LIST:
@inlovewithliferuiners​ @nnneith​ @xo-dragonette-xo​ @i-cant-remember-my-old-login
@fanficsrusz​ @baphometwolf666​ @sgt-morgan​ @thesadvampire​ @mikaneonox​ @paanchu786​
@ficsnroses​ @keanuwwu​ @kathorax​ @beyond-antares​ @themanthemyth-thelegend​ @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day​ @jardani-jovonovich-bitch​ @21stcenturyyfoxx​ @ladyreapermc​
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justimajin · 5 years ago
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Catching a Case of the Doctor Blues ⌠Part 13⌡
⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst
↳ (2.3k) Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU
⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye…
⇢ Warnings: Dr. L/N and Dr. Kim actually having a decent conversation 
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⇢  Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
⇢ Next Update: Tuesday, June 4
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A patient in distress? 
You can comfort them.
Reports needing to be filed?
It’ll take you only five minutes.
Conducting an intensive operation? 
Save for a long string of hours, but otherwise a task that can be completed.
Inviting Dr. Kim to go get coffee with you?
A huge error sign is ringing inside your head, screaming at you for even trying to do this and screeching that there was no way a positive outcome could actually happen.
But you ignore that sign, acknowledging the advice that had been given to you these past couple of days and trying to make use of it. After all, you were even getting chance to go out somewhere that was other than work and this leads to the hope that perhaps the change of environment will allow your evening to run by smoothly and pleasantly.
However, that reassurance doesn’t do any wonders to solve the multitude of problems you keep facing.
What should you wear? What time should you get there by? What are you even going to talk about?
These questions aren’t very easily ignored and one of them roughly get an answer when you just opt out to wearing a pair of jeans combined with a simple black dress shirt. Though, as you take one glance in the mirror at your attire, you get the strange urge to just rip it all off and change back into your comfortable pajama’s; completely away from the impending interaction you had inevitably set up for yourself.
The constant glances at the clock are also taking their own toll on you when you have absolutely no clue if you should be early for polite reasons, exactly on time so you don’t appear to be waiting too long or late to show you don’t care for the meeting as much even though you clearly asked for it.
Taking one final glimpse in the mirror, you deeply inhale and try to calm your fleeting mess of emotions.
Stop freaking out Y/N, it’s just coffee with a colleague, you’ll have a nice time and strike some conversation, then you can come home and bury yourself for eternity for having this idea.
With one final stare, you crack the door open and hope to yourself that you hadn’t made a huge mistake.
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You arrive exactly on time and grimace a bit on the inside when you find yourself alone standing outside the shop. But of course, you can’t expect that he’ll be there on time like you and now you begin wondering if coming late was the better optio-
“Dr. L/N?”
The voice shuts down your trail of thoughts and you’re pleasantly greeted to Dr. Kim, but taking in his appearance leaves you a bit perplexed.
It’s strange to say you’ve only seen Dr. Kim in normal clothing briefly when you were considerably sick, but even in that instance it was hard getting a glance at the doctor when you were spiking up at high temperatures and struggling to breathe from all the congestion.
However now, you can properly see him and he appears to dress similar to that specific day – a tucked in colourful shirt with elegant swirls printed on combined with a dark trench coat hanging off of him. Based on just observing him, you could tell that he was interested in high branded clothing when not adorning the white coloured coat. It’s a nice change, causing even you to admit that the man knows how to look proper even when meeting you like this.
“Shall we go inside?” He asks and you nod, slowly trailing behind him.
But then again as you reflect on the absence of the coat, it keeps dawning on you more that this encounter was definitely stepping outside of the usual day to day basis you were comfortably associated with.
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The interior isn’t too bad, with freshly warm coffee being brewed in the background and the endless chitter chatter of others flowing into your ears. You’re extremely grateful for it, as it’s the only thing holding together the dead-panned silence resting within the air you share when somehow both of you have already managed to sit down and order, yet your gazes are firmly locked on your drinks.
Of course its awkward; it was something you had expected when this truly was out of the blue. Yet from all the instances you had with the man to the pieces of perspectives you have plucked out from your co-workers, you are certain that something has changed.
However, there is still a layer of built up confusion inside you on how to take the next step.
You quickly glance at him and widen your eyes when in fact, he wasn’t relaxed either with the situation just like you. His eyes occasionally drift off to the window outside and he lifts his hand ever so often to place on the side of his cheek, tapping his fingers mindlessly.
Although it was easy to tell he was nervous by the way it was radiating off his stance, your eyes drift over to the full cup of coffee before him.
“You…don’t like coffee?” You ask and his continued silence is the only indication of a response for you when he uncomfortably shifts.
Your eyes widen and with a sigh, you repress the abundant urge to kick yourself. You had asked him to come all the way here with you and yet failed to grasp that what you had in mind wouldn’t be to his liking.
But then…he could have refused…right?
You discard that thought, knowing what you needed to do now.
“Do you want to go outside?”
Although the shop was comfy with its appearance, the built up awkward tension and his natural dislike for the substance isn’t going to help you much. Your reasoning also dips into the fact that that he’s directly planted in front of you and with absolute certainty you can declare that talking like this isn’t going to be especially great for you in particular.
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Heading out of the shop proves to be an idea you wished had before as the light breeze actually sooths down the inner turmoil brewing inside of you. You even acknowledge that it was doing Dr. Kim good as well when the two of you weren’t trapped and confined to a single space.
“Why don’t you like coffee?”
“Too bitter.” He explains, “It’s the same for alcohol, it’s too bitter for me.”
“Then why did you agree to get coffee?” If Dr. Kim didn’t like the idea, he could have easily expressed his dislike for it.
“Because you asked me to come.”
You widen your eyes, opening and closing your mouth several times.
“I see…” It’s all you can muster up to say.
“So you grew up in Daegu?” He makes eye contact with you and the sudden curiosity leaves you puzzled.
But you decide that there was no harm in telling him, “I lived there with my mother for a while before I was taken in by my aunt and moved here.”
“How...was your aunt?” He sounds deeply contorted in thought.
“My aunt…” Truth be told, you aren’t a huge fan of the woman, who was only borderline obsessed with the notion that she finally had someone to take care of. But it can simply be thrown away; all the love and support she had given to you when you had ultimately decided that becoming a doctor was the pursuit of your life. “Is a kind lady, she took me in when I was really young and had supported my dreams. But she could be overbearing at times.”
“Do you miss Daegu?”
You contemplate, turning to him, “Sometimes? I have a career here but I left a lot behind.” A distant look remerges in your eyes, “I think more than Daegu, I miss my childhood friend the most.”
“Friend?”
You nod, “I had moved into the house next door to his and my health wasn’t the best, but he would always come over and try to lift my spirits.” A nostalgic sigh escapes from you, “I don’t know where he is now, but I hope he’s doing well.”
You turn to Dr. Kim with a smile at the memories, but you only find his gaze locked onto you. It isn’t stern and direct as it usually was but is contorted with something more, causing you grimace at the abrupt load of sheer pain filling his eyes.
“Cherry blossoms?”
He flinches, snapping back instantly when you point behind him at the petals fluttering down. “They’re finally blooming.” You say in astonishment and an entire roster of emotions are swirling around in his eyes, from grief to utter regret. You walk closer to observe them more as they slowly dance down and one rests itself in your palm.
“Didn’t Daegu have festivals for the cherry blossoms when they bloomed?” You turn to him when you recall that he had too said he originated from there.
He hums, “Every year. And everyone would gather to see them.”
You let out a sigh, “I wish I got to see it before I left.” You shake your head, “My aunt was in such a hurry to leave.”
She was.
Because I wanted to go with you.
“I never got to see them either.” He says instead and curiously you turn to him.
“What about you? Why did you leave?”
He pauses, eyes void of anything when his lips set into a repressed line, “I couldn’t stay there anymore.” His voice comes out harsher, a darker undertone lacing it. But he notices you staring at him and he lightens it up, “I left someone behind as well.”
You hum, “Who was this person?”
“Just someone...I had a crush on.” Your eyes widen dramatically and you stare at Dr. Kim bewildered to which a small smile tugs on his lips.
“A crush on?” Your mind is going on rapid whirlwinds at the new information being thrown out when you can’t even consider associating the concept of love with Dr. Kim. However, it makes you think in a different way, that perhaps there was more to the doctor that you simply hadn’t seen of.
He nods and the smile doesn’t fade off from his features. He almost looks like a young boy who was experiencing the feelings for the first time and not the established doctor you know so well.
“I unfortunately never got to confess. Like your friend, I hope she is doing well too.” You smile at the idea and there’s a warm, mutual feeling between you two, like there’s actual air you can breathe from and it isn’t considered horrific to be within the same proximity as him.
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The rest of your evening actually passes by well, from you and Dr. Kim conversing about matters in the hospital with the recent surgery you had conducted together to then shifting completely to personal topics in which he seem invested about knowing from how you grew up in your time in Daegu. Its something you simply brush off considering that it was not only your hometown but his own as well and you welcome expressing thoughts from the past that you never imagined talking about alongside the doctor.
He eventually ends up taking you to your apartment and there is an immense load of tension getting uplifted from your shoulders that the time spent wasn’t entirely awkward as you had initially wondered. Instead, it was so much more interesting to talk to him outside of your professional workplace and just to simply understand Dr. Kim on an actual personal basis.
But the one spark that brings this evening to its close, is the question that had been hanging by a mere thread for majority of the time and you assume now is potentially the best time to bring it up.
“Dr. Kim?”
You’re stationed right in front of your apartment’s door and from extreme lengths, the recollection of you dragging him inside flashes through when you had gotten sick. You decide to caste that cringing thought away completely however. For your own sanity.
He hums, his gaze not feeling like it was attempting to judge you in anyway or as if it was infuriated with your simple existence. It’s instead a comfortable gaze, eyes that are relaxed and gleaming with a tint of playfulness as they draw curiously onto you.
“I know...” You begin, wanting to word this properly, “We’ve had our differences in the past, especially at work. But I do believe something had changed.” Carefully observing him while speaking, you notice that he just nods and doesn’t attempt to inject with anything you are saying.
“So what I wanted to ask was,” You pause, scoffing slightly in the back of your mind when words Yoongi had once spoken emerge, “Can we…”
“Personally, I think the two of you could be good friends.”
“Can we possibly be friends Dr. Kim?”
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mediaeval-muse · 5 years ago
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Book Review
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A Dangerous Invitation by Erica Monroe. Quillfire Publishing. 2013.
Rating: 2/5 stars
Genre: historical romance
Part of a Series? Yes, The Rookery Rogues #1 of 4 (and a short story)
Summary:  She’s given up on love, and wants only independence… Torn from her life of privilege by her father’s death, Kate Morgan survives in London’s dark and depraved rookeries as a fence for stolen goods. The last man she ever expects, or wants, to be reunited with is her first love, who promised to cherish, honor and protect her, and instead fled amidst accusations of murder. He’s the reformed rake determined to win her back… One drunken night cost Daniel O’Reilly the woman he loved and the life he’d worked so hard to create. If he ever wants to reclaim that life–and Kate–he’ll not only have to prove he’s innocent of murder, but convince the pistol-wielding spitfire that he’s no longer the scoundrel he once was. Together, they’ll have to face a killer. Time is running out…
***Full review under the cut.***
Trigger Warnings: violence, sexual content, sexism, forced prostitution, rape, sexual assault, alcoholism, being buried alive
Overview: Another recommendation from the website Smart Bitches, Trashy Books. I decided to give this one a try because I’m a sucker for a spitfire heroine, murder plots, and the criminal underbelly of late Regency/pre-Victorian London. But while the previous recommendation was a hit, this one was somewhat of a miss. I think the bones of the story are good, as well as the character archetypes, but I wasn’t personally a fan of Monroe’s writing.
Writing: Monroe’s prose is fairly straightforward with some dramatic flairs here and there to heighten the emotion. It’s easy to read, and you can skim it quickly, if that’s your style. For me, however, it bordered a little too much on the melodramatic, and it became a bit repetitive when the same sentiments were evoked again and again. For example, we’re told a lot how much our heroine, Kate, can never trust a man again and that she can’t have a future with our hero, Daniel. After the first few times, I wished Monroe would move on to explore more complex emotions to develop her characters a little more. I also think the dialogue is a bit unrealistic, as characters tend to say exactly what’s bothering them or what deeper issues are plaguing them without much prompting, and real people don’t exactly talk that way. Some metaphors and choices of words were also a little awkward, which made for a confusing read at times.
By far, the biggest issue I had was the way Monroe handled the exposition and the details of her mystery. The action of the story starts out fairly quickly, which would have been fine except that I felt like I was being asked to care about characters’ histories without getting to know them first. Daniel runs into Kate after a long absence on page 2 of the first chapter of the novel, and I wish we were given a chapter where we saw Kate fencing some stolen goods or something else first to get us invested in her as a character. Also, because things happened so quickly, I felt like I was being told a lot of information rather than relevant details being shown to me organically. For example, a character might do or say something, then there’s be a kind of aside that explained the significance of the thing. Or Daniel would reference something about his quest to clear his name, then the author would take some time to tell us how he started his journey, how he knew people helping him, etc. As a result, there was a lot of setup jam-packed in the first few chapters, and I wish more had been done to create a flow that didn’t rely on duck info-dumping. Maybe if we had a chapter showing us Kate completing a sale (as I said) while Daniel is contacting his rogue friend, Atlas, who agrees to help him clear his name. Then the action between them could begin.
Plot: I love the idea of former lovers teaming up to solve a mystery, and at its heart, I think the premise of the plot was interesting. I did think, however, that some of the details and steps along the way weren’t handled as well as they could have been. There’s a lot of going to talk to witnesses or persons of interest, which makes for a lot of info-dumping, and there’s also some random chases which seemed to be inserted for the purposes of action rather than a logical unfolding of the mystery. During the first chase, for example, I was constantly wondering whether their pursuer was just a night watchmen or someone more nefarious. If the latter, how in the world would someone have known Daniel and Kate were snooping around the warehouses at night unless someone was following them? The thought that someone must know they are investigating the murder from the onset (and thus, know that Daniel is back in London) doesn’t really occur to the characters, which I found a bit frustrating.
Overall, I wished the events that made up the main narrative had been strung together more meaningfully. Every encounter that was related to solving the mystery had the potential for some interesting social commentary, and while it was gestured to, I ultimately felt that it was rushed. For example, there’s one scene in which Daniel and Kate go visit a prostitute, and Kate thinks a lot about how the girls are more than just objects and how women have to do what they can to survive. Soon after, she discloses her own rape after being tricked into prostitution. It seemed to me like the author was trying to cover a lot of things at once when the personal lives of the characters and the unfolding of the mystery could have revolved around one or two themes: the link between minorities and crime (due to poverty resulting from prejudice), for example, and the way gender also affects how women experience the criminal world. Or, given that the main undercurrent of the book is the existence of body snatching, every aspect of the story could be tied to the concept of “selling bodies” and disregard for the poor. If the bodies of the poor are being exploited to sell to medical facilities, that kind of matches up nicely with the idea of poor women “selling their bodies” via prostitution or Irish immigrants “selling their bodies” by becoming laborers. But alas, it seemed like the novel wasn’t quite interested in diving deep into those issues.
Characters: Our heroine, Kate, is a headstrong woman who has used her knowledge of her father’s shipping company to fence stolen goods following her family’s bankruptcy. I rather liked how her ruthlessness and street smarts were connected to this aspect of her life rather than the author throwing up her hands and just asserting that Kate was a badass. Kate was also pretty likable as a street-smart protagonist who knew how to navigate the criminal world of 19th century London. I liked watching her get out of tricky situations and disappear at opportune moments, and I especially liked that she had a practical, active role to play in the investigation. She’s enlisted for her quick mind and encyclopedic knowledge of her father’s company, and I found that enjoyable and well-done. However, she was a bit back-and-forth in her affections for Daniel. One minute, she’d be proudly declaring that they can’t be together and values her independence, and the next, she’d kiss him or let him touch her while thinking about how she wanted to be protected. While it was understandable, given her traumatic history on the streets, I did find it a bit frustrating, as a reader, because rather than there being some evolution or development to her character, Kate seemed to be on a more cyclical track.
Daniel, our hero, is an Irish immigrant who has returned from abroad after being accused of murder years before. I liked that Monroe set him up as a struggling former alcoholic and as having PTSD as a result of having found the murder victim before he died - it made it seem like reform was a continual process rather than a quick fix, and that men can be emotionally vulnerable in more ways than just being lovesick or abused. I didn’t quite see what Kate saw in him, however, as her main attraction to him seemed to be physical, especially when recounting their past. Why, for example, did she fall for him before the murder when she says she was concerned about his alcoholism? What drew her to him? I also think Daniel was written as a bit too jealous. He would hate a man he just met just because he potentially got to know Kate while Daniel was away. There was more than one time where his jealousy almost ruined his chances of clearing his name, which I found ridiculous.
The supporting characters were a bit of a mixed bag. I liked Kate’s barmaid friend, Jane, and Atlas, even though neither had quite enough “screen time” to be anything other than a convenient plot device. Other characters just outright got on my nerves with their general disregard for women. The villain, in particular, was poorly done in that he monologued a bit and sexually assaults our heroine for reasons that seem to just be “because I’m evil.” It made for a rather up-and-down reading experience.
Other: There were some interesting political aspects to this book in that many references were devoted to the mistreatment of Irish immigrants. There’s such potential there for a deeper exploration of prejudice and life as a “second class citizen,” including the brief references to Daniel’s code-switching (which was delightful) and his complicated feelings about being Irish but barely remember living in Ireland. I think, however, that a lot of the prejudice was left to stand on its own and generate some automatic sympathy for characters without actually thinking about how it could enhance the story. For example, are Irish people scapegoated for crime in Monroe’s world? How is the stereotype of the alcoholic Irishman subverted by Daniel’s struggle to be better or how does his past make us think more deeply about why people turn to drink (as opposed to judging everyone as uniformly “amoral”)? Just because the novel is a romance doesn’t mean that these issues can’t be explored (one has only to look to someone like Courtney Milan, who weaves social commentary into her romances brilliantly).
I also think more could have been done to enhance the romance itself. While I did like that Daniel was intent on proving himself to be a better man than he was when he left, I also didn’t think the romance was built on much other than their past and physical attraction. Daniel’s reasons for loving Kate seem to be that she anchors him, which is a bit selfish and frustrating, but he also admires her independence and intelligence, which prevented me from giving up on him entirely. That being said, their relationship doesn’t evolve as much as it’s cyclical. They fight a lot and Kate is constantly back-and-forth about whether or not she wants to be with him, so it felt like I was reading about the same issue over and over rather than seeing how trust was built between them. Daniel’s arc could have been more about accepting Kate for who she is now - not reminiscing about a past that couldn’t return - and Kate’s arc could have been about learning to trust again or valuing living people over the memory of her dead father. While Daniel’s acceptance of Kate’s past was well-done, I really wanted more insight as to how each person made the other’s lives better and more emotionally fulfilling, not just how they’re a good person for overlooking the other’s flaws or how the love interest “anchored” them or whatever. In fairness, Daniel does learn that he needs to “save himself” rather than rely on Kate to do it for him, but there was very little lead-up for him to get to that point.
Continuing with the Series? No.
Recommendations: I would recommend this book if you’re interested in historical romance (especially set in the 19th century), criminal underbelly of London, Irish heroes, reformed rakes, disinherited heroines, former lovers, and murder plots.
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fieldbears · 6 years ago
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Washed-Up Stucky MNF/Fic Writer Provides Endgame Opinions
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I’m going to try to tackle this linearly, at least to begin with:
I am very much Team Bored With MCU Hawkeye, but I want to give sincere props for the cold open, which I think accomplished several things simultaneously: recapped the consequences of the last film (since, hey, it’s been a fuckin while), set the tone, and began Clint’s narrative arc.
That said, jesus, I’m still irritated by the shoe-horned family to begin with. First they were invented for convenience and narrative stakes, and then their final, ultimate reason for existence was to be temporarily fridged. Take a moment to imagine a world where Clint was the circus runaway loner he was supposed to be, who only had his coworkers as found family, who either responded to The Snap by throwing himself harder into his teamwork work OR went rogue because his sense of justice and agency was so fucking destroyed by what happened. He didn’t need a blood family to have the arc he had. And he didn’t even need the arc he had. But this is a bitchfest about a choice made many years ago, not made in this final movie.
The first third of that movie was rough. The whole thing had the narrative flow of “A Series of Related Short Stories Played One After the Other”, but the first third seems to be Failing To Establish the New World and then Clumsily Establishing The Emerging Situation.
The establishing shots and scenes to show the audience what The Snap’s consequences were worldwide were... lacking. It’s dark? No more baseball? People are relying on natural light instead of interior lighting, but this is also happening at Avengers HQ, where they clearly still have power and internet access to work their tech, so... was it just an aesthetic choice? I feel like the film tried to spend time showing us what the consequences were for the average New Yorker, but instead we get a weird Canonly Gay Russo Character who gave a good performance that tells us about the human loss but not about the mechanics of this new world. We get the ‘no baseball’ shot and all we get afterward are ‘people miss the missing people’. But restaurants still exist? Businesses are functioning? (Wouldn’t New York run kind of smoother if it wasn’t overpopulated?) I feel like we were invited to start thinking about how this dystopia works, but were never given answers. (There are so many interpretations of how things could go wrong if certain people just disappeared, and their knowledge/access were suddenly unavailable, and none of it was explored, even briefly, outside of establishing shots.)
The Garden Planet - it’s discovery, the traveling to it, the fight there - lacked emotional grounding in a way I find hard to explain. The audience was excited for Brie Larson being a fucking boss, and the quick execution of the grab-him-and-cut-his-arm-off plan was satisfying, but the twist and subsequent letdown was just a weird beat after a slog to get there, after waiting on a deep letdown beat from the last movie.
Last thing about flow and emotional beats, because I want to move on to character analysis, and this is a huge one for me: Clint’s fight in Tokyo and Steve’s fight with himself were some of the biggest missed opportunities in the entire film.
Not counting the football field brawl at the end, which I don’t count as a real fight scene, these are the two major fight scenes of the entire film and as far as I can tell, there was no effort made to make these showpieces. They went to the trouble of bringing Clint to Bladerunner Central, and pit him against the last bastion of aesthetic-obsessed mafia in the world. The panning camera in the interior as Hawkeye fought goons brushed past lazy fight scenes that only showed who was winning, not the brutality that Clint was supposedly falling into, not the grit of this new awful world, just... shapeless dark bodies getting thrown through windows? And on top of that, they could have made up (or picked from canon) any Big Bad to pit him against outside in the street, and we get an Orientalist sword fight that could have fit in nicely on a CW superhero show, and some of the most unnecessary exposition dialogue I have ever heard. Someone bothered to weave Clint’s arc in earlier, with Rhodey explaining to Natasha that Clint’s gone International and also Worryingly Dark. Why the fuck do we have the ‘I’ll give you anything you want’ line, on the rotten cherry on top of ‘stop being mean to the yakuza, we didn’t start it’? You already covered his motivations with the cold open.
And while Steve’s fight ended in a FABULOUSLY HEARTBREAKING WAY, the fight itself was nothing - you can pick little character details out like how they both ditched their shields almost immediately, and it was funny that Then-Steve mistook Now-Steve for Loki in the first place, but it was still a completely lost opportunity to get one true superhero battle in this three-hour slog. Both Steves could have gotten up and carried out the rest of the narrative after a decent brawl, but instead they fall a great distance after some blocked shots and it... was nothing? Missed opportunity for some cool shit.
Okay, skipping to character assessments now:
Clint’s character has been mishandled from the beginning and this seemed to be the “better late than never” eleventh hour arc. Except the end of the arc is unclear - it made sense for him to fall apart after losing his Shoehorn Family, but how did Natasha’s choice to fall do anything but fridge someone else, with more agency this time? It makes Natasha noble, which she already was, and it made her win against Clint, which I appreciate, but Natasha didn’t need salvation through death and Clint learns nothing by getting them back, just experiences relief.
Bruce. I want to say, first, that I love Hulk in a Cardigan. Cardihulk can stay. I want fanart, I want t-shirts, give me all of it. But Bruce’s explanation of “I scienced it so I could get the best of both worlds” only gives us half of the acceptance that Banner’s character is already working towards. As we saw most explicitly in Ragnarok, the Hulk isn��t just a physical form, he has his own separate consciousness, originally defined by rage but revealed to be more complicated. Bruce merging into Cardihulk seems to have... erased Hulk’s separate consciousness without merging it into himself? If there had been some acknowledgement of a second voice still within him that shot out opinions or demands for certain menu items in the diner, this would have been a much cleaner end to his arc, which has been equally messy between actor and narrative shifts.
Speaking of Ragnarok... it’s time! Are you ready? Have you read articles about the Gambit Gambit too? Are you fucking depressed that a fat suit was used for comedy gags in the year of our lord 2019? Because I was. The Russos seemed to... not struggle with what progress Ragnarok had put onto Bruce and Thor’s characters, but reject it. This movie’s Thor was anxious for laughs, was desperate for easy answers to a a feeling of lost heroism, and it didn’t feel like a familiar character. The time-travel scene with his mother wrapped it up very elegantly, and was well performed, but that scene didn’t need to follow a series of “chunky drunk in sweatpants” jokes to show us that Thor was struggling. Everyone in the film is fucking holding on by their fingernails, but only one is played for cheap laughs.
At least we get the bisexual Asgard lady king we deserved.
Tony got the right death. He got a hero’s death and Pepper’s last lines of “you can rest now” were exactly the right lines to wrap up an arc characterized by fear and a desire to protect and control at any cost. I knew the MCU was never going to really acknowledge that Tony’s The Problem, even with lines like ‘you should have let me do the fascist robot thing, that was gonna work fine’ thrown around pretty much as soon as he touches down on earth again.
I’m not sure if there’s much to say about Natasha. It was fitting that she was running HQ, that she was struggling, that she was rejecting emotional help from Steve but clearly still close with him. Seeing her break down after hearing the report on Clint felt right after, I think, being told by several directors (or making the personal acting choice? idk) to just be as flat and as decolletagey as possible. And again, while I feel like she would be self-sacrificing on that cliffisde if given the opportunity, and that she would win, the narrative choice to place her there and have that be her end didn’t really give her anything she didn’t already have. She had nothing to prove.
I have a hard time really laying out my thoughts on Steve without launching into the pregnant absence of Bucky, but I’m going to try. Chris Evans did a good job being the emotional heart of a really fractured story with a lot of conflicting pieces. Seeing him lead a talk therapy session after The Snap seemed very out of character for him until one realizes that Sam isn’t there to lead it himself. His scene offering help to Natasha was another good scene between them proving that not every m/f relationship has to be sexual to be interesting or add to the plot. His leadership speech during the Stupid Fucking Slow-Mo Heroes’ Walk to the platform was well done and makes me think of what could have been for the MCU, if they’d ever just let them be a cohesive found-family team for twenty minutes and let them fight some doom-bots or something. Fuck. Imagine.
Something weirdly satisfying about the deceitful ‘hail hydra’ line in the elevator. Yes? Yes.
The hammer scene was satisfying to me without being too gratuitous, but I’ll acknowledge that some people weren’t into it. Having paid more attention to Steve’s arc than most, I’ll argue that he earned it several times over.
His ending - that is, the secret life he alludes to but doesn’t explicitly reveal to Sam - is earned too. I’ve read at least one thing saying that Steve’s arc was all about him learning to let go, but that’s... never what Steve does. Not at the end of any arc, of any comic story, does Steve let go. Not of his principles, not of the people he loves, he is always “Thinking... Thinking About Bucky!” and getting in fights he can’t necessarily win. So I don’t think his final ending is ever Learning to Let Go. I think it’s fair that it’s Just Once, Just This One Time, Getting What You Want And Getting To Enjoy It.
And now I’m backtracking to Bucky. I’ve read one article already that theorizes that Steve’s arc, which was highly prioritized, included literally as little direct interaction with Bucky as possible because... the MCU? the Russos? Marvel?...  is aware that Steve/Bucky is the most popular same-sex ship in the MCU. And that’s tiresome as fuck but I think there’s some truth to it. I wonder if, like in Civil War, we’ll hear later from the actors that a lot of contextual one-on-one scenes were shot and then mysteriously cut from the final edit.
I will say that in my head, Bucky is relaxed when Steve goes back in time for the final time, and lets Sam goes to talk with Steve one-on-one at the bench, because Bucky is not worried if Steve will come back, and does not feel a need to check on Steve on the bench. Because, like Peggy, Bucky has been getting secret visits too. Maybe as far back as during his time in Wakanda, but certainly since the final fight with Thanos. Bucky was calm because he already knew. He didn’t miss Steve because Steve hadn’t given him an opportunity to do so.
d
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gasters-story · 5 years ago
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Fallen's Chapter 2
Word Count: 1,805
Chara got along well with the two skeleton brothers. They almost became like siblings with how close they got. After a few days l, it was normal to see them around the lab. Fallen got use to them exploring or watching after the boys after a few weeks. He was able to finish his security system because of it too, yet he's left it off for a few reasons. One was so he didn't get in trouble with Asgore. He did, however, leave the alert on for when someone enters or exits on. He'd get it on a small pocket device so only he'd notice for now, and not who happens to be entering or exiting.
Fallen was nervous the first time it went off. He expected Asgore to be the one who walked in, but to his surprise it was Asriel instead. Either way, Fallen had to at least have Chara hide away from the prince. If Asriel is anything related to Asgore in personality, Chara probably wouldn't be safe if found. Fallen made sure to remind them of that, even if the scientist had partly raised Asriel.
Fallen watched over the kids while he reread a book nearby. He had warned them not to say anything about Chara for the human child's safety, but he wanted to make sure. He wasn't suspecting any of the brothers for being bad, he just expected their mistakes, especially when they're having fun. Luckily, they managed to not spill the beans. Only problem was Fallen's worry about Asriel coming in without him realizing it, since Asriel is now becoming more independent acting as he got older and didn't announce his presence like his father. Mischief waiting to happen. 
Worst part is Asriel actually did once decided to roam the labs without permission. Fallen never noticed since he was taking a nap during the time Asriel entered. He expected his kids to be responsible enough, by apparently that wasn't the case. Instead, Fallen found the four of them, Chara, Sans, Papyrus, and Asriel, all talking happily in the main common room of the lab. Fallen thought he was still asleep at first, but once he realized he wasn't, he decided he'd ask later how it managed to work out. He just watched from afar for now.
They talked casually like old friends. The first one to notice Fallen was there was Papyrus, being as observant as usual. He ran up to the scientist for a hug, bouncing into his arms.
"How are you all?" Fallen asks and gives a small smile to play off his worries. Chara gave a skeptical look at first but just played along.
"We're doing great!" Papyrus exclaims happily. Fallen picks up the small skeleton, allowing for Papyrus to pay the other's head gently. Fallen smiled more, this time more genuine, and hugged Papyrus as best as he could while he's holding the small child.
"That's good then." Fallen says and takes a moment to glance at Asriel. He didn't seem to act like he entered at a bad time.
"How did you rest, Dad?" Sans asks. He seemed to see more problems with the way his smile seemed more on the nervous side. 
"Well enough so far. We'll see as the day continues." Fallen put down Papyrus and looked at Asriel as the kid spoke up. 
"Can we go play together now? Sans and Papyrus said they weren't sure if I could." He explains. That fits a few pieces together.
"Well, you're already here. Might as well let you." Fallen couldn't just turn him away now. At least they all got along. 
Fallen supervised while reading one of his old, favorite books, just as he had always done. He was more attentive to the kids though. Whatever happened while he slept, it was settled now but Fallen wasn't sure how settled it really was. 
Of course there was the point where Asriel had to go home. As skeptical and cautious as Fallen was, he confronted Asriel before he fully left the labs.
"What do you think of Chara, the human?" Asriel jumped a bit in surprise and turned to face the skeleton. This was kind of new from Fallen, so the prince took a moment to respond.
"They're nice. And friendly. What about them?" His facial expression showed his unease, from shifting eyes to his attempt to smile.
"Because after taking care of them for as long as I have, their safety is important to me. If you really do want to hang out with them more, you must not say a word about them to your father. That risk must not be taken." Fallen's height and stare made for an intimidating figure to Asriel. While he understood every word clear, he wasn't sure how to respond. It was clear he knew his father's faults when it came to humans, to put it lightly.
"I-I understand, sir…" Asriel mumbles. He had never before referred to Fallen like that, only his dad when he got into some kind of trouble. Fallen sighed, letting his intimidating figure go, and gave Asriel a pat on the head. He couldn't help but feel guilty for scaring the other.
"I apologize, but I'm sure you understand why." The scientist starts. "Just know I'll be proud if you can keep this a secret and you can continue to hang out at the labs with us anytime." 
Asriel softened his stance a bit and gave a sheepish smile. "Alright." He was still quiet when he spoke but it was at least a bit louder than before. He was probably just still shaken up from the moment before.
Fallen let Asriel leave, leaving him alone with his anxiety to haunt his mind. There wasn't much the scientist could do besides reread a book and hope his trust in Asriel doesn't cost him.
Fallen assumed that since the royal family hadn't stopped by at all, especially Asgore and Asriel, that so far they were in the clear. If they weren't, Asgore would be storming in here, that's for sure. As long as that didn't happen, they were safe for the time.
Asriel would visit the day after, almost making a system of every other day, but it wasn't exactly routined or in a system. He was like that cousin that occasionally came over with little warning which is pretty much what the skeleton brothers at least saw him as nowadays. 
After a few months, Asriel didn't come over as joyous as he usually did. He was quiet, never answering anyone's concerned questions. Fallen offered him things to eat and drink, yet Asriel rarely took any of it. He was there physically, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
Asriel stayed the night for the first time, making Fallen wonder if something happened at the castle. Was he even allowed to be here? He was sure he'd know soon enough, but he decided that sleeping wouldn't be easy. Asriel seemed to silently agree.
Fallen checked on Asriel when he couldn't sleep yet the other kids were. The prince laid in bed with his eyes open, like he gave up long before. The scientist tried to talk to the young goat monster.
"May I know what's wrong?" Fallen asks.
"She's… She's gone…" Asriel mumbles with little change in his expression.
"Who is?" While Fallen didn't know much of Asriel's life outside of the labs, his soul ached at the possibilities it came up with.
"Mom left and I don't know where she went…" Asriel buried his face in his paws as he let out a whimper. "They got on another fight because they don't know what to do and she just… left this time… and now Dad won't leave his room…" 
Fallen gently rubbed Asriel's back to comfort him as best as he could. He thought that the couple had things settled and decided on what they would do, but then again, hey hadn't seen a human in years. Things must've changed because of that. Now Toriel just cut herself out of the scenario completely, which made it worse for Asgore. He was already struggling heavily in the emotional bonds he holds for his people as their king. Now his family split because of it.
It was a lot Fallen didn't want to entirely get involved in. He didn't just want to leave Asriel like this, though. "Asgore must be taking it hard as well. Do you think you can help him? It might help you move on as well." He accidentally made it sound like she passed away. While Toriel may not be, Queen Toriel in a sense was.
"It'll be weird without mom there." Asriel mumbles as he slowly pulled his paws from his face.
"I know, but unless she plans to come back, there is not much you can do. Try what you can." Fallen's advice wasn't as good as he wished, plus it's the best he had.
Asriel seemed to understand, bhut he stayed silent. After a moment, fallen decided to leave it at that. "Get some rest." He says as he gets up. "I'll try to do the same." He gave the best smile he could muster before he left the room.
Asriel was gone by the time he woke up. Fallen wouldn't know the situation until Asriel decided to come back to the labs. Fallen wasn't planning to go find out himself anyways. Who knows how that would turn out.
The labs became a bit more solemn while Asriel was gone. He wouldn't come back for a while either. Fallen worried a bit, so he did take the trouble to look for Asriel to make sure he was alright. Fallen didn't bother him though. He just wanted to be reassured in his safety. The anxiety was killing him.
Papyrus would ask where Asriel was after a few days. Fallen would just say he's been busy instead of giving the real story. Chara knew this but they decided not to call him out on it. There wasn't a need to, even if they could also tell Fallen didn't like doing such a thing.
Everyone just hoped everything would pass.
When Asriel finally came back, he wore the best smile he could and tried to hang out like old times. While it wasn't exactly like before, it was better than nothing. Sometimes Asriel even stayed long enough to have sleepovers, perhaps to make up for all the time he was gone.
Fallen was at least glad Asriel was feeling fine enough to manage a fake front compared to before. He should get better with time, especially in a place not as affected by Toriel's absence.
Yet, somehow that's not how it went. Within just a couple of weeks, the Underground would change drastically from the prince's next choices.
Reborn Arc End
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jackiestarsister · 5 years ago
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Hadestown and Star Wars
It’s my habit to compare and draw parallels between different stories. Since Star Wars is heavily influenced by various myths, it makes sense for there to be many parallels with the characters and plots of Greek mythology, but I was surprised by how many parallels there are between Star Wars and a particular retelling, Hadestown. This is my attempt to write something like “meta” about it.
Note: I will be referencing various Star Wars characters and relationships. This is not intended to antagonize shippers of any particular couples.
Hadestown is about two couples from Greek mythology: Hades & Persephone, and Orpheus & Eurydice. Their journeys, both as couples and as individuals, are about the struggle to trust each other and the danger of neglecting, betraying, or abandoning each other. Hades does not trust Persephone to return to him; Eurydice does not trust Persephone and Orpheus to provide for her; Orpheus fails to support Eurydice, and then does not trust Hades to keep his word or himself to get Eurydice back to the land of the living.
Usually I try to match up all the characters in one story with all the characters in another story. For Star Wars and Hadestown, it’s not so easy, because the elements are shared by multiple characters in both stories.
Here is the strongest example of what I mean: I see elements of Rey’s personality in three of the major Hadestown characters. First, there is Eurydice, who is repeatedly described as “a hungry young girl.” Rey’s physical hunger is clear in her very first scenes, but it is other kinds of hunger--spiritual, social, emotional--that drive her throughout the films. She is also like Orpheus, poor, talented, optimistic, naive, hopeful, recalling old tales of epic love. Finally, she is like Persephone because of her affinity with nature, light, and life. Think of the flower in her home, her serenity on Takodana, and her perception of the cycle of life on Ahch-To.
Here is a general, thematic comparison: The musical’s version of the Underworld is Hadestown, basically a factory city ruled by Hades. While Persephone is all about nature, Hades is all about machinery. The Star Wars films are full of contrasts and conflicts between nature and man-made machinery. This is particularly noticeable during Rey and Kylo’s Force bond connections, when Rey is shown in natural settings on Ahch-To and Kylo is surrounded by machinery.
Specific songs seem fitting for certain characters:
~ “All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you too” sounds like Padme toward Anakin, and Leia toward Han. Like Eurydice, the female politicians are very independent and initially brush off their future love interest’s suggestions of romance. Eventually though they develop and give in to their feelings.
~ “All I’ve Ever Known” and “Epic III” describe Orpheus as somehow recognizing Eurydice on their first meeting, as if they had always known each other. “ I knew you before we met .” “It was like she was someone you'd always known.” This is exactly like how Rey and Kylo seem to recognize each other though they have never, as far as we know, met before they ran into each other on Takodana.
~ At the end of “All I’ve Ever Known,” Eurydice asks Orpheus to hold her, something Padme and Leia also do with their respective husbands. The promises set up the tragic potential because they cannot control all the circumstances to keep them together.
~ In “Chant,” when Persephone sees the ugly industrial empire Hades built in her absence, she tells Hades “I don’t know you anymore,” to which he replied, “Everything I do, I do it for the love of you.” It’s almost verbatim what Padme and Anakin tell each other on Mustafar, which is itself a hellish landscape. The song also explains how the imbalance in the gods’ relationships is shaping the world around them, which is similar to how the Skywalker family’s drama shapes the galaxy. When the gods or Skywalkers--men and women, husbands and wives--are unable to trust, communicate, and understand each other, the world around them suffers as a result.
~ Hades inviting Eurydice to work for him in Hadestown is similar to Kylo offering to teach Rey and asking her to join him.
~ “Wait for Me” could apply to many situations in Star Wars, since many of the films feature one or more characters rushing to save others. Anakin actually tells Padme, “Wait for me.” More often, it is seen as what the Greeks called katabasis, the journey to the underworld. This stage of the hero’s journey comes up repeatedly in Star Wars. The song could fit Luke going to Bespin to save his friend; Leia going to Jabba’s palace to save Han; and Finn going to Starkiller to save Rey (which fits with Kylo being Hades).
~ “If It’s True” sounds like a song of the Rebellion, questioning authority and encouraging solidarity.
~ “Epic III” has what sounds like a fitting description of Anakin and Kylo, particularly after they ascend to the heights of their power as Darth Vader and the Supreme Leader respectively. Ultimately, Hades, Anakin, and Kylo’s quests for power are driven by their fear of loss and being unloved, and their desire for control.
The more he has, the more he holds The greater the weight of the world on his shoulders See how he labors beneath that load Afraid to look up, and afraid to let go So he keeps his head low, he keeps his back bending He's grown so afraid that he'll lose what he owns But what he doesn't know is that what he's defending Is already gone
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sparklessswift · 5 years ago
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19 Things I've Learned in 2019
1. “The desire for positive experience is itself a negative experience. And paradoxically, the acceptance of one's negative experience is itself a positive experience.” — Mark Manson (The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck)
I always thought that "How To Be Happy" things on the internet are true and those things can really change your life if you will try to do so. But while reading this book, I've realized that it's not. That the irony behind thinking of ways to be happy and positive just reminds us of what we are not and of what things we failed to have that we've always wanted. The more we try searching for ways on how to be happy, the more we can't attain happiness.
2. The quality of your life depends on the quality of your choices and decisions.
I've learned that you are the only one who's accountable for everything that you choose to do, for every thoughts that you entertain and for every decisions that you make. The quality of your life is shaped on whatever you want it to be. Whenever you feel like you're carrying a huge amount of emotional baggage, it's because you chose to carry it anyway. You chose to entertain the melancholia, you chose to let it enter your life. Do not blame your situation or even other people. Change the way you see things, make good decisions and choices and the quality of your life will be better.
3. Music is a form of enlightenment towards our true emotions.
I found out that longing to hear sad songs that we can relate to whenever we are feeling sad isn't a sign of tolerating sadness, it means we are trying to fill the gap between what we know and what we feel. Finding the perfect song that explains exactly the way we feel helps us figure out the right words to describe our current emotion. It makes us feel that we are not the only one in the world who's suffering. It's relieving to be so connected to a song that you feel as though, it was written for you.
4. Forgiveness is a nice thing to do.
There are times when we feel as though, people and even ourselves are not worthy to be forgiven and that no amount of apology will cease the burning fire. But one thing I do learned this year is that, forgiveness means letting go. Do yourself a favor and let go of the bad memories, what's important is that you took it as a learned lesson. Let go of the grudges that you kept for so long, it will give you a peace of mind. Let go of the idea that forgiving without hearing an apology is not necessary in life, it is. Forgive yourself for all the mistakes you've done in life and forgive those people who have hurt you as well. Release the pain by forgiving so you can finally move on.
5. Self loathe is the most toxic form of hate.
I've learned that there is nothing more toxicating in life than hating your own existence and body. It's like badly wanting a poisonous thing even when you know it is bad for you. It's like loving the lyrics to Taylor Swift's song "ME!" because it radiates self-love but there's always a cringeworthy feeling whenever you sing the words "I'm the only one of me, baby that's the fun of me" because you can't feel the message it conveys. And it feels like, no amount of motivation from other people can cure the poison in you. I know it's easier said than done but remember that only you can free yourself from self loathing so might as well start appreciating small things about yourself and sooner or later you will realize that it's fun to be the only one of you.
6. Being 18 is challenging. While it may be true that each year has its own challenge, being 18 is quite different. It's the time when your mind starts forming questions about life, existence, and future. It's like a climax to your own story, exciting as it may seem but it contains setbacks, challenges and a hundred thousand pieces of inspirations needed in order to thrive harder. In order to believe that you can pursue your dream of reaching the happily ever after.
7. Appreciate high school moments while they last. Realizing how fast the time has flown after my journey in high school is something I wish I was ready for. Funny how we're so attached to a moment from the past (e.g. graduation) that everytime we remember it, there's this bubble of thoughts appearing in our heads with the line “it felt like yesterday” and it feels so bittersweet. If there's one thing I can teach the other generations, it is to always appreciate each moment while it lasts. After all, moments will become memories that will forever be stuck in our head so might as well enjoy your high school life and make good memories out of it.
8. We are all temporary in everyone else's lives and that's normal. It feels relieving when you realize that each person that we meet has a temporary role in our lives. We are bound to lose connection with someone whom we thought will never leave us, we're bound to cut ties with people who are not good for us, and we're bound to be left behind or leave not because we want to but because we just crossed paths with each other, we aren't really travelling the same path not as what we thought we are. Learn how to appreciate someone's presence and learn how to accept someone's absence.
9. Do not drown yourself in the thought that internet validation is important. It is definitely okay to dump the idea that you're living in the wrong generation if you think likes/reactions, comments and shares are not important. Most people today still haven't come to realize that the internet has not just open-sourced information, it has also open-sourced insecurity, self-doubt, and shame. And we have to open our minds about it. Life is happier the moment you realize that you should not give a damn about what other people think of your posts.
10. Do not jump on hate trends in social media just because it's in. Cancel culture has made a noise in the internet this year and suddenly everyone are bragging their freedom of speech because they are jumping on the bandwagon (or should I say, we're? 😂) But one thing I do learned from all the hate trends is to be discerning. This is the best time you can practice cherry-picking and only utter a word when you think you really need to or when you think it is appropriate to do so. Just as Taylor Swift said, “You just need to take several seats and then try to restore the peace and control your urges to scream about all the people you hate”.
11. Being attached to someone does not mean you're into that person. Attachment is way too different than love and even infatuation. It needs not to be stereotyped. Sometimes all you have to do is to give yourself the benefit of the doubt about how you feel and you will realize the true value of a person to you.
12. The hardest struggle in life that we can ever experience is something that is related with our family. Indeed home is where the heart is. Family is our major source of inspiration and it can also be our major source of distraction whenever there are unforeseen circumstances going on. And I think dealing with those circumstances is the hardest struggle to face because there will always be a pain in your chest wherever you go that is inevitable. The pain that lies deep within you but bleeds through the surface of your body that you can't hide.
13. College is way too different than high school and you should be ready for it. Of course, culture shock will always be there the moment you enter college. You will start comparing high school and college in every single details, you will randomly reminisce high school memories while walking in the hallway and you will remember how easy passing the exams and getting high grades back then. In my first semester in college, I've learned that you will never survive if you are ill-spirited, proscrastinator, lazy and weak student. I've learned that college is survival and in survival, you should not come with unnecessary gears. I'm sorry Taylor Swift but in college, you should not bring a knife to a gun fight.😃
14. It's okay to have few friends atleast they are real. Making friends is hard and no one can convince me otherwise. People's intentions to you are confusing nowadays and it's hard to trust another set of new people. I've realized that the amount of friends has nothing to do about how you enjoy your life. What's important is that you have friends who are honest as the day is long.
15. Listen more, say less. This year I've learned the value of lending ears to those who are in need of it and even to situations that require much understanding before saying an opinion to avoid any conflict.  Do not be easily carried away by your emotions to the extent that you're no longer thinking if what you are going to say is appropriate to the situation. On the other hand, there are times that people who are venting out their problems do not need any piece of advice, what they need is someone who is understanding enough to spend time listening to their rants.
16. Things that are gonna make your life more interesting are things that you should say yes to. — Taylor Swift
Progress doesn't come in the blink of an eye. You need to challenge yourself to do new things in order to make a progress. It is even more okay to step out of your comfort zone sometimes in order to grow. Life will be more interesting when you accept challenges with conviction.
17. Follow accounts on social media who are good for your mental health. Do yourself a favor and start unfollowing accounts that triggers your anxiety, insecurity and self-doubt. Your feed should only contain things that motivates you and people that inspires you to be like them. It should not be a place to start who-did-it-better or who's-best-at-life competitions.
18. Acceptance takes time. I have learned that it is okay to still question things that happened to you 6 years ago. It's okay to still cry everytime it pops up in your head, it's okay if you are not a hundred percent healed and it's okay to have a mind with not enough understanding about the situations that you've been to even if it happened a long time ago. God put you there for a reason. You have to keep in mind that acceptance has no definitive time frame. Healing doesn't wait for you to be ready for it. It will just happen.
19. Procrastination can ruin your goals in life.
There will be no further explanation, there will just be procrastination. 😎
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Devil’s Temptation pt12
Warnings: Mob Styling warlords, strong language, violent 
Masterlist
---
Chapter 12 – Desperate Measures
Avoiding going to the main office building was not something that could continue to happen. His continued absence was likely to spark new rumours, and adding more fuel to the fire was not going to be helpful right now.
It was almost impressive how quickly everything seemed to escalate, he hadn’t managed to shift the idea that this was the job of a pro. According to the early morning reports, there is no other exit to that tunnel. The service access was located within the whole structure of the tunnel as well so that ruled out her slipping out in some way that couldn’t be covered by those cameras. Could she have done this? No, how would she? She has been under protection and guards this whole damn time. She had her mobile but she hasn’t touched it and no one has even tried to contact her. Actually, I think it’s still in her room in the loft. Dammit, I can’t even ask for a trace on that.
Everything was exactly as he had been told. She kept herself to herself and it was her low profile that had saved her all this time from being found. There was no doubt she had been smart but it was only a matter of time before this cat and mouse game turned to the inevitable. You were good [Name] but I was better.
No this was organised. It was a total set up. He could feel his blood flash hot at the idea that someone had dared cross him in such a way. Did they know about the agreement? Its details? What would happen if it didn’t happen? His mind wandered over the possibilities jumping from idea to idea like stones skipping across water. He reread the same section of the email he had received again, unable to take it in. This is no good I can’t focus on the “legitimate” work.
– Buzz –
The sound of the intercom on his desk broke the spell of the struggle he was having.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mr Yasui. There is a gentleman here to see you. I explained that as he didn’t have an appointment you might not be able to see him but he is insisting that you are already expecting him.” The timid voice of his secretary spoke clearly to him from the small speaker.
“Send him in and take an early lunch. On your way inform Mr Tanaka that I wish to see him.” Takahiro issued his order through clenched teeth as he bit back the desire to curse aloud.
“Yes, Sir.”
– Click –
Fuck! Ok this was coming I knew that but it’s too early. I need more time I need to find her I need… While in a rattled panic Takahiro started opening up draws on his desk and rummaging through papers there. It was a vain hope that something there would be enough to explain away [Name]’s absence. Away working with an interior designer to come up with ideas for our new home? No, no good he’d ask for an address. Spa retreat? No, he’d want the number to phone and check… His hand fell on the cold steel of a gun barrel.
It was an old weapon, small something close to what you might imagine a female spy to carry concealed on her somewhere in a movie except this one, well this one had a history. It was his history, his gun, the one he turned on his own brother during a family dinner after that little stunt was pulled at the lake house where someone tried to kill him. One problem with being in this world was it was dog eat dog. The points of view of the older and respected members of the families were deeply rooted in a ridged system of patriarchy.
The children pitted together in an invisible ring and made to fight it out to the end. Whoever won was the new head and whoever lost was either used to form ties and bonds somewhere else or cast out. Takahiro often thought that being cast out was kinder. But then there was the issue with lack of ability to lead a normal life. You grow up in the dark underbelly of society it is very difficult to then start living in the blinding sun on the surface world. It was even more difficult when you were still seen as taboo.
It was hardly the era of the past. People tended to be much more accepting these days and yet there was still that stigma. You had certain expectations and those governed your life. He needed this. He needed [Name]. She was the ticket to freedom he wanted. I told you this was more than just a union of family, this was our ticket to be able to lead a life without speculation. A life without judgement. No one looks further than the wife in a relationship. Rumours spin no matter if the marriage is happy or not. People always look for those hints of hidden lovers. But this would give those rumours a lot less weight within the families. Yes, this would keep those old relics happy.
The door to his office opened allowing just one-person entrance.
“Where is my daughter?” [Name]’s father bellowed as he strode into the space, his short greying brown hair shaking as if to visualize the man’s anger and concern more.
“I don’t know.” Takahiro could have lied but he was exhausted. Although a lie would just result in the man before him being even more enraged so there was really no point.
“What?”
“I’ve been searching since she vanished four days ago. No one has seen her, there is no trace.” At Takahiro’s words the father sunk into one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. His face was white as a sheet. His eyes swimming as he processed everything. His child was gone again.
“If you cannot look after her then our agreement is void.” Those monotone words might have been spoken out of a mixture of shock and grief but they were also the ones that Takahiro didn’t want to hear. I suppose it is a good thing you came alone. Good for me that is.
“It truly saddens me to hear you say that. But… I should also thank you.”
“Thank me?” Picking up on the shift in Takahiro, [Name]’s dad suddenly looked up from his seat. Realisation dawning on him that this was not something that was going to be in his favour at all. He had been too trusting, too complacent. He had walked willingly, and alone, into the lion’s den at feeding time. The almost black eyes of Takahiro were practically smouldering as they remained focused on him his arm rising from his side, the chrome barrel of a small pistol nestled firmly in his hand. He had no time to react.
– BANG! –
The smell of a freshly fired gun mingled with the smell of fresh blood. Takahiro calmly put the weapon back in the drawer and locked it before standing up and moving around the desk to look at the body of the old man in the chair. His eyes were growing darker with each strangled breath. How easy it would be to let you die, but you still have a use even in your sorry state.
“Because of you, I shall be able to recover what is mine… Thank you.”
---
Nobunaga could take a lot of things and he tolerated them with ease most of the time. But this development was not something he was willing to overlook. Disruption in his home and business. He was King of this castle and he would see it remain a peaceful oasis during times when wars were raging outside. No this had to be dealt with.
– Knock, Knock –
“[Name]” He waited for a reply. She is in there I know. “[Name] I am not in the habit of repeating myself. Open the door.”
The door clicked open and she stood to the side staring at him through the narrow gap. She was pale, faint marks remained on her face that showed the trails that tears had taken over her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy too. It seems I was probably right to come after all.
“Nobunaga? What do you want?” She asked in a small tired voice.
“I think we need to talk.”
“Talk? You never once concerned yourself with what I had to say before, so why now?” It had only taken a second. Blink and you would have missed it but the steel in her spine seemed to solidify once more and she was back to fighting mode. You really are a Fireball. Nobunaga had to suppress the desire to laugh at the sight. You really are an entertaining woman [Name]. Who knows in another time things might have been different.
“Before you weren’t something to concern me now…” I have one of my best men rattled so badly to his core it threatens to make him useless to me. He didn’t say the last part to that statement. That bit was none of her concern. Right now, he had one man down and he knew there was no way that they were going to meet an understanding in any way unless one of the stubborn duo listened to reason. Mitsuhide was lost in his own self-loathing that left one option. You are the key to this [Name].
[Name] backed away from the door leaving it open and returned to the seating in the living room. Nobunaga followed closing the door behind him.
“So, you are here because?” She inquired as she sat on the couch.
“I realise what happened was less than ideal.” Nobu said as he took a seat without being offered one. 
“Less than ideal? That is the understatement of the century. Are you actually here to try to make things a bit easier to understand or were you planning on just mocking me?” She was fizzing. It wasn’t exactly an explosion waiting to happen, but she was certainly throwing off sparks.
“Emica.” Nobu threw out the name without any emotion in his voice. She has nothing to do with this situation and yet everything to do with it all at the same time. I haven’t seen Mitsuhide so near the edge of the void since that day and I don’t think ignoring it as he seems to want to do is going to help.
“Who?” [Name] was clearly confused.
“That is where it started.”
“And what or who is Emica?” She reiterated her first response. I see he really did tell you nothing. Was it out of shame, guilt or a desire to save you from himself though I wonder?
“She was someone special to Mitsuhide once. She still is in a way as he never moved on. Emica was the daughter of a small family in our circles. She was young, full of energy and always smiling.” Nobu watched as [Name] watched him intently taking in every word he was saying. “It was decided that Mitsuhide would be in charge of her.”
“Were they engaged?” Her quick-fire question almost made Nobu question if she had heard of similar things happening around her. Perhaps it was the plot for a popular television programme or something.
“Not officially. She was the sister of one of his friends, to start with they were all close like siblings. After she left school, she was offered as a bride. Mitsuhide was to be her intended. I don’t think he ever felt romantic love for the girl but he did love her none the less.” Nobu remained observant. The small woman in front of him had a strong front on at the moment. It faltered only when Mitsuhide was mentioned directly. In those brief fleeting seconds, she looked just as frail as she did on the day of the funeral. She still loves him. Good, that means I wasn’t wrong. You can still be useful. 
“I see… But I still don’t see how Emica is the issue.”
“On the way to the engagement part,y there was an ambush. She was shot.” [Name]’s eyes shot open at that. A very real look of shock, horror and heart break played out in her big blue eyes. Nobu continued aware of her emotions but convinced that this was something she needed to hear. “Mitsuhide found out later that he was the intended target. He never forgave himself.”
“So, he is… because… what is he exactly?”
“One of the best men I have at getting jobs that need doing done. If I gave him just one title it would be an insult to him and his talent.” Nobu was being honest. Mitsuhide was a master at his craft, and that craft spread out over many different fields in sometimes undetectable ways. “He turned down a path that day seeking his own answers and his own justice for what happened. For all his faults in how he handled the situation between you both. He did what he did believing it was the only way to protect you.” Mitsuhide you owe me for this, I hope you realise that? 
“I… I would love to say I understand but…” She lowered her eyes. Colour had returned a little to her skin and her voice was less weak but it was clear she was overwhelmed. If there was another way. I would choose that. But there is no time.
“It’s a lot to take in and process.”
“Exactly. Even telling me all this I’m still not sure I can just forgive, forget and move on.”
“No.” Nobu’s strong deep voice cut her off before she could continue. His change in volume and tone made her whole-body jolt. Her conclusion to what he had told her was all wrong. It was not why he had told her any of this. Had he wished to help? Of course, he had. He wanted Mitsuhide to stop flitting around like an empty shell. He wanted his business to continue as it had. Hell, he wanted that jumped up little jerk Yasui to disappear. But he not once was asking her to forgive and forget.
“What?”
“I did not tell you this so you could do that. Experiences in life are things that shape us in ways that make us who we are in the here and now. Without those experiences, we would not have knowledge, understanding or the ability to cope with future things that would threaten to topple us from where we stand.” Nobu explained calmly. If nothing else he could guide her a little from his own personal experience. I messed up, but even I know it pays to have people you trust around you during that time. That is what I learned. 
“So, you told me this just so that I knew some facts that might help me process the current situation easier than stumbling around in the dark?” She tilted her head and her expression seemed to soften a little as she looked at him in a new light.
“Correct.” Nobu nodded once and smiled. “He was right about you.”
“He was?” Now she appeared to have been thrown right back into the land of confusion. She really is full of interesting expressions. I can see the appeal. What must it be like to tease this woman?
“You are bright and intelligent. You grasp concepts quickly, and you are strong.”
“He called me strong?” She scoffed.
“He actually called you stubborn.” Nobu’s flat reply made her pause for a second before laughing. At least you smiled. Good. After regaining her composure, she continued.
“I’m still failing to see why he would go that far for someone he just pulled off the street during a gun fight.”
Did she truly not see it? Did she think that whatever they shared was a series of long one-night stands meant only something to one of them? If you knew him as I do you would know that he is not the type of man that can do such a thing. He is a lot of things but Mitsuhide has never been that.
“Fear can make you do stupid things… as can love.” Nobu reached out to touch her hand that was clenched next to her leg. Easing it open with his hand so as to relax it before she could do damage to herself.
“Love?”
---
Burning. It was the only thing he felt now and even that was becoming a numb sensation. The more he drank in the hope to drown out the voices in his own head the more he felt the weight of the words they spoke.
“Idiot… Fool… Heartless… Inconsiderate… Moron… You did all that and you still hurt her.”
I don’t deserve to ask her to try to understand or for forgiveness. What I did was beyond something I could expect to be forgiven for. Sighing he drained yet another bottle of strong sake tossing it into the recycling to join its other empty comrades. I should probably eat something. He has skipped lunch, unwilling to sit in a room surrounded by the guys and feeling so completely alone once more. Those eyes watching him out of concern also seemed to scream judgement. It was exhausting pretending it didn’t affect. I’ll just grab a sandwich or something that will be enough.
Thinking this Mitsuhide left his room opening his door and felt a soft thump as something landed right into his chest. What was that?
---
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starfaring-princelotor · 6 years ago
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How would you care for you lover if they were pregnant? In the future of course if youre not ready for children now, but Id love to know how you'd look after them. Maybe if they even have more than one, would that affect anything?
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Ah, children are the seeds of the future, no? Is it so impossible to think I have thoroughly thought about having a family to call my own? 
Pairings: Lotor x Reader
★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.  ★
Listen
LISTEN
You don’t understand how shook Lotor is when you say those two words.
I’m pregnant.
The Prince feels EVERYTHING.
Fear, joy, anxiety, worry, pride, oh my stars, he is so proud.
More importantly 
Lotor is fucking HAPPY.
Like his soul has ascended because surely this news?
Best thing that passed through his ears that he MUST have died from shock.
He doesn’t pass out, but he needs a wall to hold and steady himself.
Like that old man clutching his heart meme.
Is his situation ideal right now?
What with the war going on?
Voltron? 
Zarkon’s empire growing stronger and stronger? 
Lotor’s banishment?
No, not exactly suitable to raise children.
So, Lotor will MAKE it perfect for you.
It is not like he never thought about having children before.
In all honesty, he probably thought he did not have time to raise a child in a loving, caring environment.
Let alone find someone who would be willing to bear him a child.
He may be a Prince, but he is not liked by the Galra.
Heritage is important to him and, well, he wants his child to have a sense of belonging.
Not like he did struggling growing up.
What with how awful he was raised by Zarkon and Honerva.
Like fucking hell.
Lotor would NEVER raise his children like they raised him.
Fuck you dad, I’ll make my own family with love and support.
Lotor does not want his history, his past grievances, his war, to be on his child’s shoulders.
So, you know, he had planned.
Very carefully.
He took into account all of his royalty history and how that could possibly affect you and the child.
Every scenario he played out always started with you safely hidden away.
Somewhere no one could even hear about you and the baby.
Generals, continue my work without me. My love and I will be taking a leave of absence.
He does not give a reason for he should not need to explain at all.
I am sorry, but I really feel that Lotor would not even trust his generals to be around you.
10,000 years and he has enemies everywhere.
Does he trust them? 
Yes. 
To an extent.
Too close that if he were vulnerable, they would know where to strike.
That includes you.
But this is his child, his FAMILY, and although he considers his generals part of his family, too.
He wants to play it safe at all angles.
The risk is too high to keep you around others while your belly grows.
Again, Lotor’s paranoia and ingenious mind come into play.
He takes you to some isolated planet that has NOT been tainted by Zarkon yet.
It is not exactly cozy, but listen.
He will try to explain it to you.
Darling, my love, I know this is not the ship nor your home planet, but it is safe.
Please understand I want you and the baby to be safe at all costs.
You know what he really means.
I am a dangerous, wanted man.
There are dangerous people after me.
After you.
So yeah, some small house big enough just for you two and, soon, three.
Lotor is a proud soon-to-be father.
Almost…too proud.
I will teach them all I know, darling.
Fighting and surviving and loving and cooking and reading the stars and -
He also does all the typical things that come with pregnancy.
Feed you, take you out to get fresh air, all the mundane care.
Let’s you cry on him and he tries his best to sooth your worries.
Mostly just by holding you, possibly laying his hand on your belly just to remind him.
Remind YOU
This is ours?
Yes.
We will be okay.
Lotor gets fiercely protective.
Not to the point where his emotions will get in the way should someone choose to harm you.
No, now he is Prince Lotor, the analytical war-raised Galtean who is a force of nature to be reckoned with.
He shows no mercy, only a quick and absolute death. 
Though, during the deep, dark nights where he gets little rest.
Lotor just still can not believe it.
He had doubts in his early life that he might never have a family.
That is one reason why he just turned to working to find a way to achieve his other goals.
But now that this dream is up in his face?
This opportunity?
He will take it head on.
Lotor knows there will be…complications with the birth.
He brings the best Altean doctors from the Colony.
Doesn’t tell them where they are going, only that he requests their aid and, well, who are they to deny him?
However, he still will cut off any way they can communicate with anyone outside the planet.
Safety first.
The Prince even has the purest form quintessence with him, just as a precaution to help you should the pain be unbearable.
He is both Altean and Galran.
He has no idea how your body will handle his genes and yours.
Imagine his surprise when the good doctors do their check ups and tell him.
My lord, the baby is doing exquisitely well.
Oh, good, that’s one fear of his put to rest.
Every day your belly grows bigger and your ankles get sore.
If you are out on a fresh air walk and get tired, he will kneel on one leg and let you sit on his offered thigh.
Lotor, what are you doing?
You are tired, no? Come, sit. Rest.
Pat pat his thigh and you are actually humbled by how dedicated his is to your comfort.
You know he would even carry you back with ease should walking be too tedious for your feet.
He will massage your aching feet.
Lotor is a humble man while watching you nearly fall asleep from his relaxing thumbs kneading your heel.
I can’t say this enough.
Lotor planned the fuck out of this.
“Have you thought of a name-”
“Atlas.”
“W-wha-? Already? But what if its a -”
“Celeste.”
Lotor loves pressing his ear to your belly.
Whether to feel the baby kick or…
Perhaps if he strained really hard, he can hear the heartbeat
“Strong. Our child is going to be strong, my love, I can hear it.”
During all this? 
Sleeping at night, he is the big spoon.
All the time.
In fact, he is probably a little too suffocating in general, hovering around you at every waking hour.
Should you request time alone, he will do it.
By standing outside the door.
Like his entire being can not bear to be away from you.
Guarding, listening very carefully if you need anything.
He’s silent, so you do not detect him still out there.
Perks of star-faring race.
Now, the actual birth.
He is frantic, heart beating way too quickly in his chest.
Looking back, he probably wondered if he was having a damn heart attack.
I bet the moment your water broke, he raced to the doctor’s room and practically dragged them to you. 
Lotor is holding your hand the entire time.
“My love, my darling, my celestial Goddess, the keeper of my heart and soul.”
What he wouldn’t do for you to take this childbirth pain from you.
As much as he wants this, wants a child with you by his side, he knows this has not been easy at all for you.
But oh, when his kin is crying and wailing.
And he hears the doctors say “Healthy.”
Lotor is kissing your sweaty forehead, nuzzling you, praising you.
Thank you, thank you, my love, look. Our child…our family…
His heart? 
FULL.
His soul? 
FULL.
He knows things could have been worse.
Mixed species rarely come out perfect.
But with you?
Somehow, it worked. 
Was it your body? 
Your physiology? 
He did not know.
Did not really think too deeply into it right now.
Yeet those insecurities.
Especially when he’s holding such a small being in his large arms.
“Our child…has my nose. My ears…”
And when that baby peers up at Lotor for the first time?
He is smiling and utterly smitten.
This baby has his entire soul wrapped around one tiny finger.
Lotor sheds one tear, one jeweled star sapphire gem for his pride and joy.
Listen, Lotor is always calculating.
There is never a quiet moment in his head, especially now that he has a family that any enemy could hold against him.
But the moment his child falls asleep in his arms?
Everything in his mind is silent.
For once, he is able to just take in the sight of holding you and the baby in his arms.
He does not leave your side at all for a full month, too enamored at the scene of you cradling the bundle of joy.
It is the sight of his family that pushes his will and dedication not only for you, not only his child, but the future he needs to ensure for all three of you.
Stars and moon above, he is a father, and he will use all his skills he learned from 10,000 years being  alive to protect his family.
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shadowsof-thenight · 6 years ago
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Had a voice: Chapter ten
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Story summary: For two years you had let him dictate your every move. Dictate your time, your friends, your work. Everything, literally.  And for the life of you, you could not understand why you’d done so.
Now, here you were. In a beautiful but still strange city that had never become your own. And you were all alone. It was time to take back your life.
Ship: BuckyXreader
Words: 1680
Warnings: none for this chapter.
A/N: So,again sorry for the delay. Between the holidays, birthdays and a heavy workload, I find it hard to finish the chapters each weekend. Especially since my meds seemingly don’;t work and I am constantely extremely tired.
Anyway, this chapter is still not how I envinsioned it and I am not sure I am really happy with it. But I didn’t want to make you wait any longer, so i’m posting it anyway. By the time I will post it on Ao3, i will edit it again.
I created a Ao3 account last week. Shadowsof_thenight. not much had been posted yet, but I will work on that. I will, at least for the time being, keep posting here as well.
***
Masterlist                                             Story Masterlist ***
You paused,taking another moment to think of what you were about to do. Not that the task at hand was so enormous, it was just daunting to do. It was something you usually would evade, postpone. You weren't sure how it would be received and for some reason that was incredibly important. Looking at the closed door in front of you, you tried to gather up the courage to open it. The door had no remarkable features to focus on. It was a simple white door with no handles.  They would open if you gave them a little push and could swing in either direction. Nothing fancy, just doors.
Beyond those doors was one of the two massive gyms that the tower held and in it would be a few recruits trained by one certain soldier. Upon your request, Natasha had told you just where to find him. She had also tried to tell you that he didn't need you to say the things you wanted to say. She had even warned you that he was never very good at accepting words of this kind. Still, you had told her, it was important for you to say them anyway. You needed him to know how you felt. Even if he could not respond to it properly, or even at all. You just needed him to listen. To know how much his behaviour in the past few weeks had meant to you. And perhaps you needed him not to be grossed out by the gesture.
With a deep sigh you pushed against the door, surprised by how little resistance met your arm. A door this size, should be heavier. The door swung open wide and as you stepped through it, closed behind you just as easily. Swinging ever so slightly, until it was still once more. Slightly apprehensive you straightened your shoulders and walked further into the gym, scanning the room for the man you were looking for.  
In front of you the recruits he had been training today were packing their things and you sighed in relief. He would soon be alone. While you needed to say it, you didn't really need, or more accurately want, an audience. In fact, this was nerve-wrecking enough as it was. An audience would probably shut you up entirely. You weren't exactly known for your brave character after all.
The determination you had felt when you spoke to Natasha wavered quickly, when you noticed that he was in fact not alone at all. However, you told yourself, you'd come this far. No turning back now. If you wanted to change your life, you should change your actions, and stop running away from things that scared you. Like saying something nice to a person that was slightly intimidating.
“Hey Y/N” Steve said, once he noticed you walking in their direction, “Wanda isn't here” he said, his face displayed confusion.
You could not blame him for it. You had never been up to the gym. In fact, you once mentioned hating gyms with a fiery passion. This confession had had everyone laughing loudly. It had been true, though. Working out was something you did for your health and as little as possible. There was no fun to be had for you. And with your current funds, it had been running. Which you hated even more and you cancelled at the slightest possibility of bad weather. Really, it was nothing short of a miracle that you moved at all.
“I know, She's in her room,” you began with a smile, before turning your body towards his companion, “ I was actually looking for you”.
Bucky eyebrows shot up as he looked back at you, seemingly a bit surprised by this. Steve however, just nodded, perhaps he had thought you'd seek out Bucky at some point.  He returned your smile as he waved in goodbye, leaving you and Bucky alone. Your palms were sweaty already.
“What can I do for you?” Bucky wondered. His tone was a forced jovial and light. He was obviously trying, but his fidgeting hands were betraying his uneasiness. His fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt as his gaze dropped to your feet. You almost chuckled. He had seemed so confident and at ease, when he had helped you out. And now here he was, pushed out of his comfort zone by a simple conversation. Keeping a smile on your face you began speaking, hoping he would relax quickly. You did not want to be the reason of his discomfort.
“I just...wanted to say thank you” your voice a little timid. Thank you didn't seem to be enough. He had been so gentle and comforting as he listened to you talking through your panic attack. And after that, when he took care of you.
He was so kind to you, even though he barely knew you. After the words had left your mouth, you looked down at your hands with a new-found interest, had they always been this pale? When Bucky didn't respond, nor looked up from the ground, you knew you had to be the one to break the silence.
“I'm sorry you had to witness that freak out” you quickly said, risking to glance up from your hands and towards his face. His fidgeting had stopped and he now looked at you with a confused look etched on his features.
“Nothing to apologise for,” he grumbled, offering a small smile.
“I must have looked like an idiot” you chuckled at your own expense, your eyes trained on you hands once again.  
“No you didn't” he replied with an intensity you had not heard from him before. He, again, seemed determined to make you feel at ease.
“Seriously!” he added after a few seconds and you looked into his eyes now.
“I just, should've held it together better.” Big displays of emotion had always been something you struggled with. Having someone be witness to a panic attack was therefore horrifying to you. You felt weak, silly.
“Says who?”, he wondered, his voice an octave higher,”We all respond differently to things. And we hardly ever know beforehand. This triggered a past trauma for you. That it nothing to be ashamed off” he stated firmly.
“Trauma, right” again your hands became insanely interesting.
“Don't try to downplay it” Bucky took your hand in his and squeezed it. You smiled at him and again apologized, explaining that it felt stupid to be so easily triggered.
This seemed to anger Bucky as he fervently tried to convince you that it had not been stupid at all. That what you had been through was not easy and in combination with your young age, it wasn't strange at all that it had induced a trauma.
“But compared to what you and the others go through on a weekly basis...” you trailed off.
“There is no comparing those two things. Trauma is trauma and we all can use a little help with that sometimes”
Bucky still held our hand in his as he said those words and you could feel something stir inside of you. Your stomach flipped and you blushed. He was such a good person and you really wondered why so many people seemed to fear him. He was a little gruff at times, but he was caring and kind and understanding. Many people could learn from him.
“Well thank you for helping me and for taking care of me the past few weeks. I don't know...If you hadn't been there.” again you trailed off, unsure of how to explain all the things you felt, “If there is ever anything I could possibly do for you,...I might not understand, but I'm a good listener”.
“Thanks” he chuckled.
Behind you the doors to the gym swung open again and you quickly glanced behind to see the smiling face of Natasha. Bucky dropped your hand and it suddenly felt cold, missing the absence of his warmth.
“Are you guys joining us for dinner?” she called out and you could not help but smile. This group of people had not known you a few weeks ago, and yet they were so accepting of you. You and all your traumas and weirdness.
All throughout dinner you kept glancing at Bucky as he looked relaxed, at ease in this group. He laughed as he mocked Sam. Became boisterous with Sam as they tried to prove something to Steve. Listened intently as Bruce was telling him some story.  It was nice to see him like this. And it made your stomach do some flips again, which confused you a little.
As he caught your eye he smiled with a nod, raising his drink. Raising your own in response, you wondered if he too had felt something shift during your talk earlier.
“Perhaps you should try being a little more subtle” Natasha joked as she leaned over. With wide eyes you stared at her, had you been that obvious? She chuckled and shook her head ever so slightly as she saw the horror cross your face.
“Don't worry, men are usually oblivious to these things” She whispered and gave you a side hug, before returning to the food in front of her.
Taking a deep breath you tried to relax your shoulders and turned to focus on your food as well. You wouldn't want to give anyone a reason to tease you. Especially since these sudden feelings confused you. And even more so, because Bucky would probably be mortified if he knew.
Soon you were pulled into conversation with Wanda and Vision, as  they spoke of movies she had recently shown him. Wanda explaining certain subtleties which he had missed, asking for your corroboration with that. It wasn't long before you felt an ease come over yourself as well and conversations all around seemed to flow easily. It was nice. A new experience, being amongst friends and not worrying too much.  
Chapter 11
Tags: @gracelynn318
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truthbeetoldmedia · 6 years ago
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The Bold Type 3x02 "Plus It Up"
Hello friends, and welcome to the second episode of the current season of The Bold Type. While last week fell a bit flat, I’m happy to say that this episode hit every mark. It was funny, heartwarming, meaningful, and as always, well acted.
Employee of the Month
Now, Sutton’s portion of this episode was the least gripping, but heartwarming nonetheless. Oliver has some uncharacteristic absences from work, both worrying Sutton and causing her to put in more time for the magazine. Oliver isn’t sharing what has him missing work and snapping at Sutton, which worries her.
To complicate things, she’s also struggling with sharing these things with Richard. On one hand, he’s her boyfriend, so of course she wants to discuss what’s happening at work and why she’s having to stay late. On the other, she can’t forget that Richard is also part of HR. She can’t exactly vent about Oliver without revealing he’s been missing work, so she’s forced into silence.
While handling this crisis at work, Sutton also has her new move to deal with. The change from her apartment with Jane to Richard’s penthouse is pretty stark. Living in a super nice New York City penthouse isn’t what makes her uncomfortable, it’s the “perks” that come with it. Richard has a housekeeper that does his laundry (really), which is something Sutton isn’t here for.
Sutton is super relatable when discussing this uncomfortable situation with Kat and Jane. While Kat also grew up with a housekeeper and Jane admits that having one herself is something she would want if she’s successful enough, Sutton quips that not only has she never had one, but she almost WAS one herself.
(She also reveals she didn’t get the job because she failed the drug test. Never change, Sutton)
I have to admit, I’m team Sutton here. I don’t care what other people choose to do, but I would never be comfortable having a housekeeper, ESPECIALLY one that does my laundry. My mom cleaned houses when I was a kid, and I did the same for a little bit in college. I really can’t imagine hiring one myself.
Essentially, Sutton is doing two jobs at once while having exactly no time to do her laundry. Honestly, who among us. (Later on Richard ends up doing Sutton’s laundry for her, bragging that even though he had a maid as a kid he still knows how. Congrats I guess?)
Sutton does find out that the reason for Oliver’s absence is actually really heartwarming. Apparently, Oliver’s ex-boyfriend had something of a drug problem before they were together and has relapsed after thier break up. The issue is that this ex has a daughter, to whom Oliver was essentially a step-dad, and she’s now in danger of being sent to a group home since there is no one to take her. Oliver is in the midst of applying to be her legal guardian to prevent this from happening.
Not only is this super sweet, it’s an important conversation to have. As Oliver mentioned, it’s not exactly easy for a gay Black man to adopt a child. As someone who happens to work for a group home, I’m really happy that The Bold Type is approaching this subject. Here’s to hoping that they go into depth with this and don’t just leave it as a side story.
Write it Out
This episode we see Jane begin her fertility treatments, the first step in the process of freezing her eggs. The whole thing is pretty daunting: she needs to inject her medicine every day at the exact same time, visit the doctor every other day, and stay away from alcohol, carbs, and sex for 10 days.
The irony is that none of those things bother Jane too much, especially when compared to her anxiety about sharing this process with Pinstripe. After all, she tried the same thing with Ben in season two: introducing the added stress of the egg freezing process (and Ben’s not at all helpful response) is essentially what drove them apart. She’s more than happy to do all these things on her own, but our new resident Terrible Dude ruins her plan.
Patrick, said Terrible Dude, decides that it would be a great idea for Jane and Pinstripe to write an article on the process together. They’re both writers, they’re dating, and they can offer two unique views on the process. Great idea, right?
Jane definitely doesn't think so. Throughout the episode we see her anxiety at not wanting to share this process with Pinstripe, worried that this will disrupt the happiness that they’ve settled into in thier relationship. She doesn’t want to make things “heavy.” Pinstripe interprets this as Jane not wanting to open up to him, so the disruption that Jane predicted becomes a reality.
Because this is The Bold Type, the negativity doesn't stay for long. Jane realizes that Pinstripe isn’t Ben, and his willingness to support her outweighs her worry.
However, I’m afraid that they’re glossing over a pretty problematic point (say that ten times fast) of Jane’s arc this episode, which is Patrick’s complete disregard for Jane’s feelings and privacy. As a man, Patrick has no idea of the physical, emotional, and mental stress that Jane is dealing with. He completely ignores her when she’s clear about not wanting to write the article with Pinstripe. Jane’s right to discuss her own body and her own medical journey isn’t a thought. Sure, she was willing to write an article on her own, but doing so ensures that she writes it on her own terms. The article and her relationship with Pinstripe worked out in the end, but Patrick’s disregard for Jane the person at the expense of Jane the writer wasn’t lost on me.
We saw the same behavior from Patrick last week as well - he all but forced Kat to use her Blackness and her Queerness to lift up Scarlet. Now, Kat doing that is not the issue, but her choice of when and how to do so was taken away.
Patrick is also pretty rude to Jacqueline this episode - he’s insulted when he realizes that both he and Jacqueline are gunning to interview Cardi B, claiming that he needs to “up his game” since he feels that he is more on top of things than Jacqueline is. He also talks down to her later, over explaining what Rupaul’s Drag Race is with the assumption that Jacqueline is a little too out of touch to be familiar.
We do see Jacqueline put Patrick in his place later on by bringing Sasha Valor of Rupaul fame to Kat’s Queer Prom, revealing that her and Sasha are great friends and that she’s been her long time supporter. Melora Hardin deserves an Oscar for the look she gives him when he realizes that he’s underestimated her.
Raising Some Hell  
Before I start, I need to mention how good Kat (Aisha Dee) looks in this episode. Her dress? Her hair? She’s a gift.
Kat’s journey this episode is by far my favorite. She’s back to being proactive and ballsy, throwing everything she has at a Queer Prom fundraiser for a local Lesbian bar that’s in danger of shutting down. She also discovers the reason for the shutdown; the neighborhood is looking to gentrify, and that means pushing out businesses like the aforementioned Lesbian bar. Apparently there were some fines that were brought up from many years ago that the bar wasn’t aware of, and combined with late fees they need to pay over $42,000 or close.  
Here’s a definition for gentrification, just to put this into perspective:
“The process of repairing and rebuilding homes and businesses in a deteriorating area (such as an urban neighborhood) accompanied by an influx of middle-class or affluent people and that often results in the displacement of earlier, usually poorer residents.”
It’s the displacement aspect that we’re paying attention to here. The bottom line is that the influx of wealthy white people would rather live next to a Lululemon than a Lesbian bar, and by design gentrification seeks to clear neighborhoods of People of Color, Queer folks, and anyone who happens to be poor. I suggest reading a bit about this, so you should check out articles like Examining the Negative Impacts of Gentrification and 7 Reasons Why Gentrification Hurts Communities of Color.
Also, just a fun reminder that neighborhoods can and should be improved FOR the people that currently live there.
Before Kat thought of throwing a Queer Prom, she met with the local councilman to discuss options. She discovers that he’s written the bar off as a lost cause, telling Kat that unfortunately there is no way to get around paying the fine. He would love more than anything to save the bar for his constituents, but it’s just not possible.
Turns out, that councilman doesn’t actually care about the bar or his constituents. Shocker, I know. He shows up to the Queer Prom for some photos, and while talking to Kat he lets slip that the new condos they’re putting in when the bar closes wouldn’t be so bad afterall. She calls him out for attending the event and using it as a photo op to prop up the illusion that he actually cares about his neighborhood, which was amazingly satisfying to watch. During the end of the episode we see Kat searching up and coming female candidates for office, in what I hope is a bit of foreshadowing.
I’m super happy with this episode. It was uplifting, entertaining, and well executed. I can’t wait for next week!
The Bold Type airs Wednesdays at 8/7c on Freeform.
Alyssa’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝
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